Revenge, Not So Sweet
by cindy123
Summary: Someone seeks revenge on John, Dean and Daniel by going after Sam. Can the men find who is responsible and stop them before it's too late? Seq. to The Apple Doesn't Fall Far. hurtlimp/Sam protective/pissed family language and violence as always
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is my new story. It is the sequel to The Apple Doesn't Fall Far and is story number three in my Three Brothers series. **

**Summary: Someone is seeking revenge on John, Dean and Daniel by going after the youngest Winchester. Will they be able to find out who seeks revenge and will they be able to stop them before the ultimate price is paid by their most cherished family member? We may once again be seeing Bobby, Caleb and Joshua. Other OC's from the previous story may also make appearances. Takes place a year after The Apple... except the prologue. Sam is 19, Dean is 23 and Daniel is 24.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that you recognize from the TV show Supernatural. I do own the original characters.**

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**_Prologue_**

**Just outside Boulder Colorado-January 14, 2002**

Randy Gregory, tall with a muscular build, stood shaking, his body pressed as tightly as it could get against the wall of his grand livingroom, his eyes glued, wide with terror, to the steadily splintering door of the coat closet that stood near the front door of his country estate. He cried out in fear every time the loud thud would sound from within the closet and the thick wood would splinter more. The low, throaty growl that came from inside the closet frightened the large man even more and he pressed further into the wall, his body paralyzed with fear as the wood began to crack.

In all of his forty nine years, Randy Gregory could honestly say he had never been this scared. Not even close. He let out a terrified scream as sharp claws crashed through the crack in the closet door and began to rip away the wood, vicious snarls emitting through the steadily disintegrating door. Randy stole a glance to his left, his large hands closing tightly around the fire poker he had grabbed after he had somehow gotten the creature in the closet and locked it in. He let out a pain filled cry when his eyes found the shredded, bloody remains of his wife of twenty seven years lying not ten feet away. The small, once beautiful blonde barely resembled a human anymore. Every bit of flesh on her body was ripped and torn, the deep teeth marks the creature had left visible even from where Randy stood. Her face was gone, her scalp was ripped away.

Randy swallowed hard, his eyes filled with tears of anguish. The sound of the door ripping free from it's hinges had the man jerking his head around, another scream tearing past his lips as the large black and silver furred head of what could only be a wolf appeared from the dark closet, teeth bared, drool dripping to the hardwood floor below.

"N-No…please…no…" Randy cried as the wolf moved stealthily toward him, the deep growl from the creature causing the hairs to stand up on the terrified man's neck.

Randy's eyes remained locked on the wolf, the man mesmerized by the gray, intelligent eyes of his wife's killer. Something inside of Randy stirred, an inkling of recognition. He knew those eyes, had looked into them nearly every day for the past nineteen years. But, it couldn't be. It was impossible. Randy pulled away from the wall, his head cocked ever so slightly to the left.

"D-David?" the man's frightened, shaky voice whispered.

The wolf stopped, it's jaw closing as it peered curiously at the trembling man before it. It cocked it's head as it sniffed at the air and Randy could swear he saw recognition flicker in the gray eyes that stared back at him. The events that followed happened in a flurry of violence, all hell breaking loose in the once elegant room.

Both man and beast jerked their heads toward the front door as it was smashed in, a dark haired man with even darker, wild eyes bursting in, rifle raised and aimed at the snarling, circling wolf. Two younger men, both appearing to be in their early twenties, rushed in behind the older man, their own weapons raised as they covered him.

"Get down!" the youngest looking of the two younger men shouted as he circled to the right of the oldest man.

Suddenly, the wolf leapt at the man who had just shouted, it's jaws snapping as it barreled toward him. The man jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the sharp teeth of the wolf. He wasn't, however, able to avoid it's claws. A pain filled grunt tore from the man's lips as the claws ripped into his shoulder, spinning him around and dropping him to the floor, causing him to lose his grip on his weapon, the pistol skittering away across the smooth surface.

"Dean!" the other young man cried as he instantly started toward his injured comrade.

"Daniel! No…" the older man shouted, his rifle already back on the snarling wolf.

"Dad…I have to get to Dean!" Daniel screamed just as the wolf leapt in the air for another attack.

A loud, ear splitting bang filled the air, followed by an anguished scream and the wolf dropped to the floor at the oldest man's feet, dead before even one hair touched the hard surface.

"Noooooo!" the man who had been huddled by the wall screamed as he tore across the floor, stopping abruptly when his eyes fell to the quickly changing form before him.

"Daniel, get to your brother," John instructed as he stepped aside, allowing the grief stricken man to pass by him.

Daniel moved across the entry way and crouched down, his hands grasping his younger brother's uninjured arm as he gently pulled the man to his feet.

"You okay, Dean?" Daniel asked worriedly, his eyes moving to the blood soaked material that covered Dean's shoulder.

"'m fine," Dean answered breathlessly, his eyes moving to the sobbing man who by this time had dropped down next to the body of the wolf.

"Did it bite you?" John shot, his dark eyes gazing intently the youngest man.

"No…I'm fine…it didn't bite me."

John looked down as the distraught man began to sob harder. He eyed the man curiously, realizing at that moment that he must have known the poor soul who had been turned by the werewolf curse.

"Oh my God…David…h-how…how?" the man sobbed, his arms encircling the now fully turned body of a young man.

John crouched down just as Daniel and Dean stepped up to him, the younger held firmly around his waist by the eldest. John reached out and rested his hand on the man's shoulder. The man jerked away from his touch, his wide, red eyes darting up to John's face.

"Are you okay? Did it hurt you?" John asked softly.

The man stared incredulously at John as tears continued to flow down his cheeks. "**HE**…was my son!" he cried, his voice filled with pain and sorrow.

"I…I'm sorry. He wasn't your son anymore," John said, his eyes moving up to his boys before falling back to the grieving man.

The man sighed and stared sadly up at John. "He'll always be my son," he croaked, breaking into fresh sobs. "You…you killed my baby. How could you do that?"

"Is that your wife there?" Daniel asked softly, his eyes filled with sympathy as the man looked over to the bloody body across the room.

The man nodded slowly, soft whimpers escaping his lips as he gazed at the dead woman.

"I'm sorry mister, but your son killed her and would have continued to kill if we hadn't stopped him. He has killed at least three others before her," Daniel continued sadly.

The man looked up at Daniel, devastation written all over his face. "I don't understand. What…what happened to him?"

"He was a werewolf," Dean answered for his brother.

The man let out a stunned laugh, his eyes staring at the men as if they had suddenly grown three heads. "You're crazy," he whispered as he tugged the body of his son closer to his chest.

"You saw it with your own eyes. I'm sorry, but how else would you explain it?" John asked, his heart going out to the man as his thoughts wandered to his youngest son, so many miles away.

"I…I can't. Werewolves don't exist…they can't exist. They're just made up."

"No. They're real," Dean said softly.

"Sir? Why don't we help you up. I think you're going into shock," Daniel suggested as he reached down to help the trembling man.

"No…I need to stay with him. He's so cold. Is…is my wife going to be okay?" the man asked, his eyes taking on a blank stare.

"Sir…she's…she's dead. I'm sorry…" Daniel started.

"Nonononono…they're both gone. My whole life…gone," the man cried.

John reached out and gently began to pull the dead young man from his father's arms. The man fought him at first, but then he collapsed down onto the floor, his hands falling limply to his sides. New sobs broke free from him as John lifted his son away from him.

"Wh-where are you taking him?" the man asked softly.

"What's your name?" Daniel asked as he crouched down beside the man.

"Randy…Randy Gregory," the man answered.

"Mr. Gregory…we have to…we have to burn his body. Just to be sure," Daniel said, his voice filled with sympathy.

Randy let out an anguished sob, his wide eyes locked on the limp body of his only son. "No. Please."

"Mr. Gregory, it's the only way to make sure that he rests in peace. I…I hate to ask this, but…do you know if your son was recently attacked? Bitten possibly?" Daniel asked.

"Uh…yeah. A few months ago. He and his friend were hiking and they were attacked. Michael was killed, but David…David was only mauled. He was devastated. He and Michael grew up together. They were best friends." Randy stared at his son, his voice void of emotion.

"Mr. Gregory? You're in shock. I'm going to get you up and onto the sofa so you can lie down. My dad and I are going to take care of David while my brother watches over you."

"What about Gayle? She's…oh my God. How do I explain this? She's…she's torn apart."

"Once we take David away, you call the police. Tell them a wolf somehow got into your house and attacked your wife. A door was left open by mistake."

Randy looked up at Daniel and slowly nodded. Daniel grasped his arm and helped him to stand. Instead of moving to the sofa, the man stepped toward John. He reached out and tenderly caressed his son's cold cheek. He leant over and placed a loving kiss to the young man's forehead, soft sobs causing his shoulders to shake. He looked up at John, his pleading eyes breaking the hunters heart.

"Will you…will you bury him after…after you…"

John nodded and smiled softly. "Yes, Randy. We'll bury him."

Randy nodded sadly. He stepped back and watched as John and Daniel left the house with his son, knowing he would never see him again. Dean gently guided the man to the sofa and sat down next to him, groaning slightly as the movement pulled on his oozing wound. Randy looked up at him then at his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" the man asked.

Dean looked down at his shoulder before returning his gaze back to the man. "I've had worse. I'll be fine."

"I…I guess I owe you and your family some thanks. You saved my life."

"It's what we do."

"I…I really don't feel very thankful. My family is dead. My wife is lying on the floor ten feet behind this couch and my son…my s-son is the one who killed her."

Randy broke into sobs once more as he leaned over, his forehead resting on his knees, hands clasped behind his head. Dean reached out and placed his hand on the man's back, giving as much comfort as he could to the stranger beside him.

"Mr. Gregory…why don't you lie down. You're in shock. You need to lie down and elevate your feet," Dean said softly.

Randy sat up then shifted before listing sideways, his head coming to rest on a fluffy throw pillow. Dean stood and allowed the man room to lift his feet up onto the sofa. He grabbed two more pillows and placed them under the distraught man's knees and feet. Randy placed his arm over his eyes as he continued to weep for his lost family. Dean stood and took a blanket from the armchair next to the sofa and walked over to where the dead woman lay on the floor. He covered her body, shaking his head at the sheer violence it had to have taken to rip her apart so brutally. Once the body was covered, Dean shuffled back to the sofa and sat down in the armchair, his eyes resting on Randy Gregory. He leaned back in the chair, his thoughts turning to Sam. He missed him so much. They all did. He knew what this man was going through. They had nearly lost Sam not once, but twice. He couldn't even imagine his life if his baby brother had been permanently taken away from them. He couldn't have lived with that.

Dean looked up as the front door opened and John and Daniel walked back in. He looked at his watch, not realizing how much time had gone by as he sat there thinking about Sam. John nodded at Dean's silent query and the younger man looked over at Randy.

"Mr. Gregory? It's done," he said sympathetically.

Randy Gregory lowered his arm and glanced sadly up at the men who stood above him. "Could…could you all leave now? I need to call the police and I really don't think you should be here," the man said softly as he sat up, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

"Mr. Gregory. We're so sorry. If there had been anything else we could have done, we would have. You have to understand that we couldn't let any more innocent people die," Daniel said.

"I know. I don't understand any of this, but…like you said, I saw it with my own eyes. I just…I don't know what I'm going to do."

Daniel nodded before he stepped over to help Dean up from the armchair. The three Winchesters spared one last glance at the devastated man before they headed to the door and stepped through it, leaving Randy Gregory to his grief.

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**Six Months Later**

Darkness was broken only by flickering candlelight in the small cabin as soft chanting sounded from the tall figure who stood within an intricately drawn circle that resembled a snake circling around a black backround with four stars set at North, South, East and West. In the center of the stars was a red diamond and it was upon this diamond that the man stood, his lips moving as the evocation was read. On the floor before the man and outside of the circle was drawn a triangle, white in color, a green circle within.

The man continued to chant, looking up as the last word left his lips. "Shax…" the man whispered and immediately the air began to stir, the flames flickering wildly. A form began to take shape and it was all the man could do to keep from leaving the circle and running in terror from the sight. As the form became complete the man looked upon it with wide, frightened eyes. He straightened his shoulders as he remembered why he was here. He looked upon the strange creature, staring it down as it gazed at him from within the triangle. The creature somewhat resembled a stork with a humanesque torso. When it spoke, it's voice was hoarse, but subtle. It soon turned into a beautiful melody and the man was mesmerized by the voice for a moment.

"You, the magician who has summoned me, what is it that you wish for me to do?" the creature queried, cocking it's birdlike head, it's beady black eyes staring deep into the man's wide ones.

"I command that you, Shax, the Marquis and forty fourth demon of the seventy two, exact my revenge upon those who took everything from me. I command you to make them suffer the worst possible pain," the man said forcefully, his body trembling.

"I am required to carry out all of your wishes. How is it that you would like me to carry out this revenge?"

"Find a boy, a very special boy, and place your curses upon him, one by one. He is not to be killed, but he is to be made to suffer. His suffering is what will bring my enemies to their knees. Your curses will be the first to be visited upon him. Once all three curses have run their course, you will return to Hell and I will summon The President to exact his curses upon the boy."

"And which President will you summon, my lord? There be more than one in the seventy two."

"Marbas. I will summon Marbas."

"Your requests will be carried out. What is the name of this boy whom you wish to curse?"

"Before I give you his name, I command that you take the form of a man so that you can walk among other men."

"I do not take the form of man, my lord."

"You will take the form of man if I so command. There are those that hunt all sorts of supernatural beings. In your current form, you will be easy to spot. You must be able to get close to the boy."

"As you command, my lord."

The creature began to tremble and twist as it changed before the man's eyes. Within moments, a man of average height stood before the taller man, his eyes as black as night. As black as a birds. The taller man nodded his approval and smiled.

"If I please my lord, may I now have the name?"

"His name is Sam Winchester. He is the son and brother of hunters. The youngest of the Winchesters. His suffering will be their agony."

"I will find him, my lord and then my curses will be laid upon him, one by one. He will suffer and his family will suffer."

"Shax, as you stand in the triangle remember, you cannot deceive me. Place your first curse upon the boy then three days after place the second. Three days after that, place the third. Once the third curse has been laid, return to the triangle and you will be returned to Hell."

"As you wish, my lord."

With a nod from the taller man, the demon stepped from the triangle and promptly disappeared. The tall man turned, his smile cold. Tonight would begin the revenge he so craved. The Winchesters would pay for what they did. They would pay the steepest price.

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**Okay, that's the start. I hope you all enjoyed and are interested enough to come back for more. As this is a work in progress, there will not be a daily update. My goal is to have at least one chapter per week, possibly two, time permitting. Thanks for reading and I hope you will let me know what you think. Take care.**

**Cindy.**

**A/N: Shax and Marbas are two of the seventy two demons listed in the 17th Century grimoire _Key of Solomon_.** **The magician, or _goetic_****uses the practice of goetia to summon or evoke the demon in order for the demon to do the summoners bidding. The demons are referred to as Marguis, Duke, President, etc and have certain powers that the summoner can command them to use. The magician is anyone who has the proper spell to recite. They must draw the symbol for the demon on parchment paper then draw the two symbols portrayed in the story in order to evoke the demon. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay folks, here is chapter two. We're getting to Sam in this one. Now, I received many suggestions for stories from all of you and this story actually came from some of those suggestions. A lot of you wanted Daniel back, so he is. Some wanted to see something with Sam at Stanford, and something happening to him to bring his family there...you got it. I hope this comes close to what you wanted. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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**That same night-Palo Alto, near Stanford University**

Sam Winchester hurried down the sidewalk, the warm night air washing over his exposed arms and gently rustling his chocolate hair. His lips hinted at a smile as his thoughts wandered to the last of his final exams in this his Freshman year. He knew without a doubt that he had aced the exam, just as he knew he had aced every other final exam that week. The week had been stressful, but Sam thrived on the adrenaline of the sleepless nights studying and then finally taking up his pencil to put down the answers that he knew backwards and forwards, could have written down in his sleep, if he'd had any sleep that is. Sam's eyes moved down the street, his destination finally in sight. Inside the small coffee shop, his friends waited for his arrival, their own final exams finished for the year, each one eagerly awaiting the summer of parties and relaxation.

Sam reached the door to the coffee house and pushed it open, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans pleasantly wafting over him. He took in a deep breath and immediately made his way to the counter where he placed his order, blushing as the pretty blonde smiled sweetly at him as she handed him his latte. He ducked his head, peering at the girl through chocolate fringe and smiled before turning to look for his friends. Hearty laughter reached his ears and he instantly knew it was his friends. He headed to the corner seating area where the laughter came from and his smile grew as his friends came into view.

"Sam! You genius son of a bitch! Get your ass over here!" a tall, sandy haired young man shouted as he stood from a plush sofa and motioned for the taller man to hurry up.

"Will, do you always have to shout?" Sam answered with a chuckle as he eased around the velour covered armchair and made his way to the sofa.

Will clapped Sam on the back, laughing as Sam took a seat. "Hell yeah! I want everyone to hear me, dude!"

"Yeah, we know, Will," an auburn haired girl chimed in as she reached across the small coffee table from her seat in the armchair and patted Sam's knee. "They can hear you in China."

"Hey Andrea. How'd your test go?" Sam asked, his eyes moving to the green eyed girl, smiling affectionately as Andrea smiled back.

"Oh God, it was a freakin' pain! I swear, Walker hates me! I'm sure the jerk gave me a different test than everyone else. Just because I don't flirt with the asshole," Andrea complained with a huff.

"Aw, Andi…I'm sure you did just fine," another young man said, his long blonde hair falling into his blue eyes, the young man absently blowing the strands out of the way before taking a sip from his large coffee cup.

"How about you, Jason? How'd you do?" Sam asked as he turned his attention to the blonde.

"Oh, you know…whatever…" Jason answered, waving his hand nonchalantly.

"I'm sure you did fine," Sam said with amusement.

"Hell, you know I don't give a damn about my grades. I'm just going here 'cause Dad did. It's not like I'm ever going to need to get a job or anything," Jason said.

"Yeah, we know. Trust fund baby and all," the final member of the group chirped with a chuckle.

"Hey, I didn't ask to come from a rich family, Greg," Jason answered lightheartedly. "Not that I would want it any other way, mind you."

The group laughed before Greg turned his attention to Sam. "So…Winchester, not that we need to ask, but how did you do on your finals?"

"Uh…I don't know. Okay, I guess," Sam said softly, somewhat embarrassed at the scrutiny that was now aimed at him.

"Yeah, right. You aced everyone of 'em didn't ya, you freakin' genius," Will said, quirking an eyebrow at his shaggy haired friend.

"Will, cut it out. Sam can't help it if he's freakishly smart. I think he was part of some secret experiment as a kid or something," Andrea quipped, smiling at Sam's somewhat perplexed expression.

"Okay, so…what are you all doing this summer?" Sam asked, his eyes moving over his friends.

"Huh…well, you know. Family trip to Italy," Jason replied.

"Italy…sounds nice," Sam said. "What about you, Greg?"

"Uh…I've got to work in my dad's store this summer. He's having surgery," Greg answered.

"Is he okay?" Sam asked with concern.

"Yeah. It's nothing serious. Knee replacement. He's put it off until I get home."

"Oh. Well, I hope everything goes okay," Sam said.

"Thanks, dude. So, Andrea, what are you doing?" Greg asked.

"Just hanging with friends. I think I may take some summer classes, just to keep up on things," Andrea replied.

"Sounds like a nice summer, Andi," Jason said.

"Hmmm…well, it's not Italy, but I'm looking forward to it," Andrea quipped.

"Well, I'm gonna do nothing but fish all summer long," Will said as he stretched out his legs, sighing heavily.

"What about you, Sam? What are you doing this summer?" Greg asked.

"Oh, uh…my family will be here the day after tomorrow. Road trip," Sam answered.

"Cool…road trip with the family. You going to Disneyland?" Will queried with a chuckle.

"Uh…no. Just seeing the country."

"That's sounds cool, dude," Will said.

"Yeah…I can't wait to see them. It's been since before Christmas. Which reminds me, I've got to make sure to call them later. My weekly check-in."

"You have to check in with your family?" Andrea queried.

"Yeah. They're a bit protective of me, me being the youngest and all. It was my dad's stipulation if I came to school. Check in every Thursday night."

"Wow, how old are you…five?" Will said with a chuckle.

"Will…" Andrea warned.

"It's okay, Andi. Some things happened within the past few years and they worry," Sam said softly, the others eyeing him with concern.

"Hey…you okay, Sam? I didn't mean anything by that you know," Will said, his voice filled with remorse.

"Don't worry about it, Will. I'm getting over it, slowly but surely. It helps though, to talk to my family," Sam answered, smiling warmly at his friend.

"You can talk to us too, you know, Sam," Greg said.

"Yeah, I know. You guys don't need to listen to my problems though. I'm fine anyway."

"Hey, we're friends, dude," Jason said.

Sam smiled then looked down at his cup. "Gotta get more coffee. Anyone else ready?"

At each friends head shake, Sam stood and strolled to the counter, frowning as his thoughts turned to darker times. He ordered, smiling softly when the pretty blonde girl went to make his drink. The bell over the door rang as a customer entered and Sam quickly glanced over his shoulder, noticing an average sized man enter the coffee house. He turned back when he heard the girl clear her throat.

"Thanks," Sam said softly as he took his drink.

Sam turned, and promptly bumped into the man who had just entered the coffee house. As Sam began to apologize, the man grabbed his arm and Sam sucked in a breath as he looked into jet black eyes. Eyes that reminded him of a bird. He tried to pull his arm away, but the man was surprisingly strong. The man smiled as he pulled Sam closer to him. Then the man whispered, "A mind is a beautiful thing to waste, don't you think Sam Winchester?"

Sam jerked his arm away and stared in shock as the man walked toward the door and exited the coffee house. He turned back toward his friends, his eyes moving warily to the window. The man was nowhere to be seen, and Sam suddenly had a shiver run up his spine. How did the man know his name? Who was he, and what did he mean?

"Hey! Sam…what was that all about?" Will called, bringing Sam's attention back around to his friends.

Sam smiled slightly and shook his head as he approached his curious friends. "Uh…I'm not sure. It's probably nothing," Sam answered as he sat back down on the sofa.

"The jerk's lucky he left, 'cause I was just about to open up a can of whoop a** on him," Will quipped.

"Yeah, keep talking tough boy," Jason smirked.

The group settled into small talk, none of them seeming to notice Sam's sudden uneasiness. Sam's eyes flitted from one friend to the other, his breathing hitching as fear began to take hold of him.

"Sam? What's wrong? Hey…Sam!" Greg called and Sam jerked his head toward the young man, his eyes going wide.

"No…you can't be here…you can't be here…" Sam cried as he jumped up from the sofa, his coffee cup crashing to the floor, hot coffee splashing over his sneakers.

Sam began to back away, his eyes wild as his friends rose and started toward him, their concern evident on their faces.

"Sam…what's going on? You're scaring us," Andrea cried softly.

Sam's eyes remained locked on Greg as he continued to back away, his hands reaching out to the sides as if he was searching for something to grab hold of. "You can't be here. You're dead…you're dead."

"Sam…who do you think he is?" Jason queried, his heart hammering in his chest.

"What?" Sam asked, his wild eyes moving to Jason.

"Who are you talking about?" the young man answered.

"M-Michael…Michael Wilcox," Sam answered, his voice sounding close to a sob.

"Who's Michael Wilcox?" Will asked and Sam jerked his head to the young man.

"Nononononono…" Sam cried, his backward motion picking up speed.

"Sam…stop. What's wrong?" Andrea asked urgently.

"Dead…you're both supposed to be dead…"

"Sam…"

"NOOOO!" Sam screamed as Will stepped closer.

Sam scrambled backwards, his eyes widening further and becoming completely void of recognition. Suddenly, his foot caught the leg of a chair and he tumbled backward, his head connecting with the edge of another coffee table, his body falling limp as it hit the floor.

"Sam!!!" Jason shouted as he lunged toward his friend.

"What the hell!? Oh my God, what just happened?" Will cried as he dropped down next to his friend.

Greg and Andrea moved to stand over their friends, their eyes wide with worry. Sam didn't move as Will cupped his head, the young man wincing as he pulled his hand away and noticed it was coated with blood. Andrea, at the sight of the blood, turned to the wide eyed blonde behind the counter. "Call 911!" she screamed before turning back to her friends.

"Is…is he okay?" she asked shakily.

"I don't know. He's breathing, but…I just don't know," Jason answered, his fingers moving to the side of Sam's neck. He sighed as he looked at his friends. "His pulse is strong."

"Is that good?" Greg asked.

"I don't know. It is on ER," Jason said.

Sirens met the friends ears and they moved aside when EMT's pushed into the coffee house, the EMT's gazes falling intently to their patient. The two men went to work on Sam and after a few moments one looked up at the huddled group. "What happened here?" he asked.

"Uh…we were talking. He just lost it. He thought Will and Greg were someone else. I don't know…he just…it's like he didn't know us anymore," Andrea said, her voice trembling.

"How did he hurt his head?" the other EMT queried.

"He was backing away and he caught his foot on the chair. He fell backward," Jason answered.

"Okay, were going to take him to the hospital now," the first man said.

"Is he going to be okay? He's going to be okay, right?" Greg queried fearfully.

"Well, his pupils indicate a concussion, but we don't know how bad it is. As for his…episode, we just don't know. That's for the doctors to determine. What's his name?"

"Sam. It's Sam Winchester," Will answered.

"Okay, we're taking Sam to Stanford Hospital. If you want to, you can follow us, but there's no room in the ambulance."

"Uh…okay. We'll get there somehow," Jason said, his arm draping over Andrea's shaking shoulders.

The EMT nodded then turned back to his patient. The EMT's, along with Will and Greg, gently lifted Sam up onto the gurney once a neck brace was attached and Sam was strapped down before he was moved to the ambulance. The vehicle sped away, sirens blaring and the four friends watched as it disappeared down the street. They flagged down a cab and hurried after the ambulance, their worried thoughts moving to their friend.

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Dean, Daniel and John sat in their motel room, working on the pizza that had been delivered fifteen minutes earlier. The TV was playing, but none of them paid it much attention. Their thoughts were miles away. In less than two days, they would be picking Sam up and the family would be together again, if only for the summer. The year had been hard, only seeing Sam on the occasion that a hunt brought them to California. They spoke once a week on the phone, Sam calling every Thursday night around eight. It was nearly that time now, and they waited with anticipation for John's phone to ring. It was funny how they practically lived for that night and that phone call. They had no idea who the separation was harder on, them or Sam, but they had a suspicious feeling it was them. Sam seemed to have fallen into the routine of school fairly easily, but of course they couldn't know for sure how he was doing as the youngest Winchester was a pro at portraying what he thought his family needed to see to ease their minds.

The Winchesters finished their dinner and sat back, waiting for Sam's call. When eight o'clock came and went, they glanced nervously at each, not quite ready to panic. Sam had never missed a call and had always been on time. The only thing that kept the men from jumping to conclusions was the knowledge that Sam would have been coming off of his last exam and could very well be out celebrating with friends. Of course, he would definitely hear about his lapse in judgement when they did speak with him. Sam knew how much they worried about him, and he also knew that as hard as it had been for them to let him go, they had his promise to call each week and they expected him to keep that promise.

When ten o'clock rolled around and there still was no call from Sam, there was no denying the slowly building panic within each man. John pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial number for his youngest son. The phone rang and rang, then went to voice mail and John hung up with a frown. He looked at the expectant gazes of his other sons and shook his head.

"He didn't answer. That's not like him," John said nervously.

"I'm sure he's okay, Dad. He's just out with his friends. It's been a rough year and he's earned it," Daniel said, his voice lacking confidence in his assertion.

"I just don't think Sam would forget to call or purposely blow us off. You know your brother, Daniel. That's just not him," John replied.

"Okay, so what do we do? Do we leave now and head there? Is Caleb or Josh close to California?" Dean queried, the young man not even attempting to hide the worry in his voice.

"Let's give him a little more time. If we haven't heard from him by midnight, we'll head out," John said, already moving to pack his bag, just in case.

The three men sat in nervous silence, willing John's phone to ring. At exactly a quarter to midnight, the phone did ring and John flipped it open, an angry scowl on his face.

"Sam! Do you realize how worried we've been? I don't care that it's your last day, you still call when expected!" John spat, his face falling when the voice on the other end of the phone was not his sons.

"Mr. Winchester?" the deep male voice queried.

"Who the hell is this? Where is Sam?" John shot, his eyes moving to his sons as they waited anxiously.

"Uh…my name is Jason. I'm a friend of Sam's. I…uh…something's happened," the voice said.

"What? What's happened?" John queried, his stomach doing flip flops as he waited for the reply.

"Sam…he…he's in the hospital…he…"

"What! Why is he in the hospital?"

Dean and Daniel were on their feet in a second and next to their father a second after that. John held out his hand as he listened to the young man on the other end of the phone.

"We were hanging out after the last tests and then he…he just lost it. He thought my friends were someone else. He was terrified and he tripped when he was backing away. He hit his head…"

"Is he okay? Have you talked to the doctor?

"Um…they won't really tell us anything. They say we're not family, so…"

"Okay. What hospital?" John queried shortly, his nerves frayed.

"Stanford Hospital. The address is 300 Pasteur Drive in Palo Alto. Please, hurry Mr. Winchester," Jason pled, his voice trembling.

"We'll be there in about six hours. Thanks for calling, Jason. By the way, how is it that you have Sam's phone?"

"It must have fallen out of his pocket when he fell. I found it on the floor of the coffee house we were in."

"Okay…one more question. Who did he think your friends were?" John asked with trepidation.

"He only said one name. He said that they should be dead. The name he said was Michael Wilcox."

The line went dead as John hung up, his face going as white as a sheet, his sons looking on with fear at the look of absolute horror on his handsome face.

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Dr. Franklin Watkins stared through the observation window at the sedated young man who lay in the bed, his body jerking and fighting against the restraints that held him to the bed. The fact that the young man could still fight even after the sedatives he had been given was a testament to just how messed up the situation was. Dr. Watkins had never seen anything like it. From the description given by the boy's friends, this episode had come completely out of left field. They had all been enjoying a relaxing evening in a coffee house, relaying their summer plans to each other and then wham, the kid had gone completely out of his mind. The doctor would have to do some investigating at the university to see if the young man had been seeing anyone for any kind of mental illness, but according to his friends he was the most sane person they knew.

Thankfully, the bump to the head the kid had received only left him with a mild concussion, so really the only thing they had to concern themselves with was the sudden onset of psychosis. Stress from finals could explain some level of agitation, but this was way out there. The kid kept insisting that two supposed dead men were after him. He couldn't tell them his name, where he was from or where he was at the moment. He had stopped saying anything coherent hours ago. Now, he just screamed and fought the restraints one moment, then mumbled incoherently the next. The doctor had been told that the boy's friends would try to reach his family, but he hadn't heard anything on when he could expect them to arrive. Dr. Watkins rushed into the room when the boy began to jerk spasmodically, his head jerking from side to side as he screamed. His eyes were wild, the pupils blown. His body was bathed in sweat, his messy brown hair plastered to his head. The doctor reached out and caressed the boys cheek as he began to relax a bit, shaking his head at the sad situation.

"What happened to you, Sam? " he whispered as the young man finally succumbed to the sedatives that coursed through his exhausted body.

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**Well? Was it okay? Did it disappoint? So, just what in the hell is going on? Are the curses beginning? John and the boys are on the way, thankfully. Reviews are love.**

**Cindy.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay folks, here is chapter 3. It's reunion time. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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The rumble of the Impala broke the relative quiet of the morning as the car pulled into the parking lot of Stanford Hospital. It was followed closely by John's pickup, and once both vehicles were parked, the occupants exited and rushed toward the entrance of the hospital. They burst through the doors and hurried to the reception desk, John barking out Sam's name at the flustered receptionist. The middle aged woman gave them directions to the floor that Sam was on and informed them that Sam's doctor was waiting for them. They quickly found the bank of elevators and entered the first lift that opened, pushing the button that would take them to the fourth floor. Once they stepped off the elevator they turned right, their stomachs in knots at the thought that Sam was housed in the Psychiatric ward of the hospital. They could not fathom the bright, inquisitive young man they loved beyond everything else needing to be here and were beyond apprehension to find out exactly what was going on.

The three men stepped through the doors into the Psychiatric ward and made their way to the nurses station where they were told Sam's doctor was waiting for them. As they approached, a tall, white haired man turned toward them and stepped away from the desk, reaching his hand out to the eldest Winchester.

"Mr. Winchester?" the man queried as he shook John's hand.

"Yes, I'm John Winchester. I take it you're Dr. Watkins?" John replied.

"I am. It's nice to meet you John. And who are these two young men?" the doctor asked.

"These are my other sons, Dean and Daniel," John said.

"It's very nice to meet you," Dr. Watkins said as he shook both brothers hands.

"It's nice to meet you too, doc. Now, can we get to my brother?" Dean said, his impatience apparent in his voice.

"Why don't I take you to Sam's room. I can fill you in before you go in to see him," the doctor replied.

The men nodded and followed the doctor as he led them down the hall toward Sam's room. The doctor stopped in the hall beside a large window, the room beyond the window closed off from the hall by a light curtain. A door was to the right of the window and the Winchester men knew that beyond that door was their youngest family member.

"So, what's going on with my son?" John queried, his eyes moving to the covered window, his heart wanting nothing but to be in the room where his baby boy lay.

"Sam was brought in last evening around seven. He was unconscious from a blow to the back of his head. Once I was able to determine that Sam was only suffering from a slight concussion, I then met with his friends whom he had been with earlier. What they told me was a bit disturbing. They said that Sam was fine, talking and joking with them. They were discussing what each one was going to be doing over the summer break. Your son went up to the counter at the coffee shop to get another coffee and when he returned, that's when things got out of hand. They explained that Sam got extremely agitated and that it was like he suddenly wasn't seeing them, but someone else all together. They said it was like someone flipped a switch and Sam went from being the young man they knew from school to this freaked out, almost crazed person that they didn't know at all," Dr. Watkins explained.

"Did you do any kind of scan due to the blow to Sam's head?" John queried, his eyes misting over at what he had just been told.

"We didn't. Is there something I should know?" the doctor replied.

"Two years ago, Sam was in a car crash and had a severe head injury. The doctor who treated him said that he needed to be extremely careful about hitting his head," Daniel explained.

"Well, that's good to know. We'll keep a very close eye on him. We may want to do a scan, just to be on the safe side. It's unlikely that his previous or current head injury is causing his psychosis, considering the episode started before he hit his head, but it's not out of the question either."

"I'm sorry…psychosis? Is it really that bad?" Dean asked, his stomach doing flip flops.

"I'm afraid so. When Sam regained consciousness, he immediately became very violent, thrashing about, screaming about someone named Michael Wilcox…"

"The car crash he was in…he had actually been abducted by a man named Michael Wilcox. The man was a pedophile who as it turned out had kidnapped, raped and murdered a number of teenaged boys. Sam caused the crash to try and stop the man," John explained, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Oh my…I…I'm so sorry that your son had to go through that. The man…he didn't…" the doctor started.

"No…Sam stopped him before he could," Daniel said, admiration in his voice.

"Doc, is it possible that Sam's…breakdown…has something to do with what happened to him two years ago?" Dean asked fearfully.

"Well, that depends. Has he had any other episodes before now?"

"No…he had nightmares for quite awhile. He's told us that the nightmares only come occasionally now, but he seems to be coping well. Better than us actually," Dean answered.

"I don't know. With that in his subconscious and the stress from final exams…it could explain some of what is going on, but I just find it highly unlikely. With how he was acting before and then just losing it? And now, with how he is, I just don't see that being the cause. I truly am stumped."

"Exactly how is he, doc?" Daniel queried.

"He screams non-stop, thrashes about and even sedatives don't help much to calm him. Then, he just suddenly stops and stares vacantly ahead. He'll start sobbing and mumbling incoherently then the screaming and thrashing start again. This had been going on all night until a few hours ago when he was just so exhausted he finally fell asleep. I have never seen anything like it."

The three Winchester men looked at each other, shaking their heads at what they had just been told. They moved their gazes to the curtained window, and they suddenly had the desperate need to be in the room near their loved one.

"Can we see him now?" Daniel asked softly, his eyes tearing up as he thought about how terrified his baby brother must be.

"I'll take you in now. He's sleeping, but you need to be prepared for when he wakes up. He may not recognize you. I'm hoping your presence may bring him out of whatever has hold of him, but I'm just not too sure that will happen. We've put him on antipsychotic drugs, but they don't seem to be doing anything yet."

The doctor moved to the door, the three men following closely behind as he pushed through the door and entered the dimly lit room. John and his boys moved immediately to the bed the second they saw Sam's form lying so still. Their eyes widened when they saw the restraints around not only Sam's wrists, but his ankles also. Sam was dressed in a light tee shirt and hospital pants with no blankets or sheets covering him, yet he was still covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"Why is he restrained?" Dean asked, his voice filled with anger.

"Like I said earlier, Sam became very violent when he awoke. To protect him and the staff, we had to restrain him…"

"But, why his ankles too?" Daniel asked, moving to Sam's side and grasping one restrained hand.

"Sam was kicking out. He nearly took off an orderlies head. I'm sorry…I know it's distressing to see him like this, but I assure you, it's for his own protection as much as for ours."

"Can we be alone with him?" John queried, his eyes never straying from Sam's lax face.

"Of course. If you need anything, don't hesitate to push the call button," Dr. Watkins answered then turned to leave the room.

Once the doctor was gone, John and Dean joined Daniel at Sam's bedside, a sense of déjà vu sweeping over them. How many times in the past two years had they been in this position? Although this time Sam had only a minor physical injury, the fact that he apparently had a breakdown of some sort made them just as nervous and anxious as when Sam had been more seriously injured. John spied a chair a few feet away and hooked it with his foot, pulling it to the side of the bed. He sat down, his fingers absently stroking Sam's forearm as he ran his other hand over his stubbled face.

"This doesn't make sense, Dad. Sam was doing so well, and did you ever get the sense that he was stressed out?" Daniel asked, still holding his baby brothers hand.

Dean glanced at Daniel before returning his gaze to Sam. "Danny's right. Something just doesn't seem right here. Sam went through so much and now he has a breakdown? I don't believe it. What's going on here, Dad?" he said, his hand lying softly on Sam's leg.

"I don't know, but we need to keep a close eye on Sammy. I agree with the two of you, there's something off about this whole thing," John replied.

Dean glanced around the room, frowning when he didn't see another chair. "I'm gonna go see if I can round up two more chairs," he said softly, not wanting to wake Sam just yet.

Daniel nodded gratefully, a slight smile on his lips. He shifted on his feet, fatigue beginning to take hold of him. John's attention remained on his youngest son, his dark eyes searching Sam's face for any sign of discomfort. Dean turned and silently left the room leaving the two eldest Winchesters to watch over the youngest. Daniel leaned up against the bed and reached up to tenderly brush Sam's wet bangs from his eyes, his fingers pausing on the side of his brother's face.

"What's going on with you, Sammy?" he whispered softly, his warm eyes resting on Sam's flushed face.

A soft moan from the young man on the bed had both men standing at attention, their eyes wide as Sam began to wake up. Sam rolled his head restlessly on his pillow, his lips moving slightly as incoherent words whispered past his lips. Sam's motions became more agitated the closer he got to wakefulness, causing John to instinctively reach out and gently grasp his arm in an attempt to comfort the young man. The door to the room opened and Dean came in, a folding chair in each hand. When he saw his family standing nervously over Sam, he let his gaze fall to they youngest Winchester. Sam was mumbling, his head rolling from side to side, his body jerking against the restraints that held him firmly to the bed. Dean propped the chairs against the wall and rushed to his brother's bedside, joining his worried family. Suddenly, Sam's eyes flew open wide, the pupils blown as he stared blankly ahead.

Without warning, Sam screamed out as his body arched off the bed and his family thought for sure he'd wrench his shoulders right out of their sockets with as hard as he was pulling against the restraints. John lunged forward, grasping Sam's shoulders and pushing him back to the mattress, trying as hard as he could to keep his baby from hurting himself. Dean joined his father in trying to still Sam as Daniel desperately pushed the call button, cringing with each gutwrenching scream that tore from Sam's lips.

"Sammy! Stop…you're hurting yourself!" John cried, his eyes moving to his son's wrists, afraid that he would sprain or break them if he didn't stop soon.

The door to the room opened and Dr. Watkins, followed by a matronly looking nurse rushed into the room. They pushed up to the side of the bed, the nurse taking a syringe and inserting the needle into the IV port on the tubing running to Sam's hand. Sam's frantic screaming and jerking began to subside slightly, but he continued to cry out and arch off he bed. Sweat poured from his brow and his thin hospital tee shirt stuck to his body as it became drenched. As quickly as it started, the episode came to a sudden halt, and Sam collapsed with exhaustion back to the bed, his eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling as the incoherent mumbling began again.

Dean cupped Sam's cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over his temple. "Sammy? Come on Sam…snap out of it little brother. Please Sammy…what's happening to you?" he asked fearfully.

"Shadows…all around me…have to pay…have to pay…" Sam whispered, his words barely audible. "Havetopayhavetopayhavetopay…"

The three older Winchester men looked up at Dr. Watkins, their questioning eyes wide with concern.

"This is the same thing he has been saying all night. He thinks he has to pay for something. Do you know what this may mean?" the doctor queried.

"No. Sam is…there's nothing he has to pay for," John answered, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

"Teeth tear…blood…have to pay…have to pay…have to pay."

"What? What does that mean, Dad?" Daniel asked, sudden panic rising in him.

"I don't know, Danny. I just don't know," John said softly, his eyes never leaving Sam's face.

Dean leaned over his brother, moving into Sam's line of sight. "Sammy? It's Dean. Hey little brother…what's going on? Talk to me…please. What do you have to pay for?"

Sam's mumbling stopped as his eyes suddenly gazed upon his brother and Dean thought he saw a flicker of recognition. Sam cocked his head slightly and licked his dry lips. "D'n?"

Dean's heart leapt, as did the other's in the room at the first coherent thing they heard from the young man on the bed. "Yeah, Sammy. It's me kiddo. Dad and Danny are here too. Are you okay little brother?"

"D'n? Why? Why d-do I h-have to p-pay?" Sam whispered, his eyes once more glazing over.

"Sammy, I don't know what you mean. Tell me what you mean…Sammy? Hey! Sam?" Dean cried, as his brother once again checked out of reality, his eyes rolling in his sockets before they slipped closed and the young man fell into unconsciousness.

Dean looked up at John, his eyes filled with panic. Dr. Watkins moved to Sam's side and lifted his eyelids, shining his penlight into the hazel eyes. He looked up at the expectant faces of the boy's family and smiled.

"He's okay. He's just sleeping. These episodes are quite exhausting."

The three men visibly relaxed as much as the situation would allow them. "He was pulling pretty hard on the restraints. Could you check his wrists?" Daniel queried, his fingers brushing through Sam's sweat soaked hair.

The doctor nodded and removed the leather cuff from Sam's right wrist. He examined the wrist, prodding it gently before securing the cuff once more. He moved to the left wrist, repeating the process before he looked up at the men. "His wrists are fine. They're bruised and slightly swollen, but they aren't broken."

"Thanks, Dr. Watkins," John said, taking Sam's hand in his.

"Hopefully the sedatives will keep Sam out for awhile. They poor kid needs some rest," the doctor started. "We'll figure this out Mr. Winchester. I'm going to do all that I can to figure this out."

"Please…call me John," the eldest Winchester said.

"John...Sam is going to come out of this," the doctor said.

"I hope so, doc. I certainly hope so," John replied as he slumped tiredly down onto the chair once more.

"Okay…I have more rounds, but I'll be back in about an hour to check on Sam."

John nodded and watched as the doctor and the nurse left the room. Dean walked over to the folding chairs he had brought in earlier and handed one to Daniel before he opened the other one up and set it next to the bed. The three men settled in, prepared to stay in the room until their Sammy came back to them. The only problem was, they didn't know if Sam would come back. The only thing they did know was that Sam did not have a breakdown. Someone or something had done this to him and they were going to find them and make them pay.

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**No cliffy! I hope you enjoyed the reunion, although it wasn't quite how the Winchesters had planned it to be. Things are going to get a lot more hairy before they even know what is going on, so I hope you are ready. Okay, I need to let you know that I am traveling to Puerto Rico the week after next and I won't be taking my laptop with me. I hope to have two more chapters posted before I leave and at least one ready for when I get back. That is my plan, but no promises. I have a lot to do to get ready for my trip, both at home and at work. I'll try my darndest though! So, please review! Take care.**

**Cindy.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey all! It's update time. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy**

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**Day Three**

John sat next to Sam, his head propped on the pillow and tilted so it touched his baby's. His right foot was planted on the ground, keeping him from tumbling off the edge of the bed. Sam's soft murmurs and ramblings had become a constant in the dim room, but at least the screaming and fighting had stopped allowing the young man to be freed from the restraints he had been forced into. Dean and Daniel had left a half hour before to get something to eat in the cafeteria, leaving John to watch over Sam. He expected his boys back anytime, knowing full well that they would not be able to stay away for very long. The nursing staff had given up trying to get any of the men to leave their youngest's bedside, so they had brought in more comfortable chairs so that the three could at least get a little sleep now and then. John turned his head toward Sam when the young man cried out softly and the older man immediately noticed something different in the way Sam was looking around the room. It was like he was seeing it for the first time. John slowly sat up, not wanting to startle his son.

"Sammy?" he queried, his eyes peering at Sam's face, not daring to hope just yet that maybe, just maybe his son was coming back to them.

Sam slowly rolled his head and John suppressed a gasp as the hazel eyes that stared up at him filled with tears as recognition lit the soulful orbs. "D'd?" the soft voice whispered tiredly, Sam's hand raising from the bed and reaching out weakly.

John reached his own hand out and grasped his son's, pulling it to his lips and kissing it lovingly, his heart filled with relief. "Oh God, Sammy. Where were you, kiddo? Where were you?"

"Dad? Wh-what happened?" Sam asked, his voice soft and filled with confusion.

"We don't know, Sammy. We were hoping you could tell us," John answered.

Sam looked around the room, his eyes wide as he finally realized where he was. "I…I don't…why am I in the hospital?"

"Sammy?" a shocked voice sounded and John looked up to see Daniel standing in the doorway of the room, a takeout box in his hand, Dean's face peeking over his shoulder.

Sam turned his eyes to the doorway and a soft smile pulled at his lips. "Danny? What are you all doing here? You aren't supposed to be here for three more days."

Daniel and Dean hurried to the bed, Daniel handing the takeout box to John as he reached out to ruffle Sam's hair. He shook his head sadly, realizing that Sam had no idea that three days had passed since the coffee shop. "Sammy, this is the day we were meeting you. You've been in the hospital for three days," the eldest sibling said, his heart breaking at the confusion and fear he saw in Sam's beautiful hazel eyes.

"What? No…I just finished my last exam. I just had coffee with Jason and…wh-what's going on? I don't understand," the boy said, his voice hitching.

Sam turned his head when his left hand was grasped, and smiled when he saw Dean's smiling face peering down at him. "Sam…you had…uh…you had some sort of a breakdown," he explained, swallowing deeply as Sam's eyes widened.

"A…a breakdown? No…why would you think that?"

"You freaked out, kiddo. At the coffee shop, when you were with your friends," John explained, squeezing Sam's right hand gently.

"I don't remember that. Why am I in the hospital?"

"Well…when you were…uh…you tripped and fell. You hit your head," Daniel said in reply.

"Oh…um…why would I freak out?"

"We don't know, Sammy. Your friends told the doctor that you were fine then you just lost it. We haven't spoken with them yet, but we plan to. Sammy…we don't think that you had a breakdown, just so you know. We think something did this to you…or someone. We just don't know who…or why," John said as he stood up from the bed.

Sam looked at his father, his eyes taking on a lost, glazed look. John reached out with concern and cupped Sam's cheek. "Sammy? What's wrong," he whispered in fear, praying that Sam wasn't slipping once again.

"Dad? Why do I have to pay? Wh-what did I do to be punished for?" Sam whispered, bewilderment shadowing his handsome face.

"What are you talking about, Sam? You haven't done anything," Dean said, his eyes moving up to John's face before going back to Sam.

"I have to pay…I have to pay…" the youngest Winchester said, his eyes moving over his family, tears suddenly spilling down his cheeks.

"No…you don't have to pay for anything, kiddo. You've done nothing wrong," Daniel whispered, anger suddenly filling him as he thought about what he would do to whomever had put these horrible things into his baby brother's head.

"But…he says I have to pay. He was told I had to pay," Sam said, his voice sounding far away.

"Who, Sammy? Who said this?" John queried, his voice rising as his anger grew.

"The bird-man."

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The man walked down the hall, passing by Sam's room and stopping to lean against the wall next to the observation window. He turned his head so he could look through the window, his strange black eyes peering in at the young man lying in the hospital bed, his concerned and protective family surrounding him. The man smiled and reached up to absently scratch at his birdlike nose. His eyes never left the young man, the object of his mission. Nurses bustled by him, none of them seeming to notice the out of place stranger as he stared through the window. The man took no notice of the nurses as they went about their jobs of caring for the psychiatric patients, his only concern being the young man whom he had been summoned to curse. He watched as the boys brothers and father talked with him, their relief apparent on their faces. He chuckled as he thought about how their relief would be shortlived. Their nightmare was only just beginning.

"The eyes are the window to the soul, Sam Winchester. The eyes are the window to the soul," the man whispered, smiling as he strolled down the hallway, leaving the Winchesters to their brief reprieve.

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Sam settled back into his bed, happy that Dr. Watkins was finally done with his examination. The man had asked Sam so many questions. Personal questions. He had never been to a shrink, and he hoped to never have to speak with one again. It made him extremely nervous to open up to his family, let alone a complete stranger. And this stranger thought he was out of his freaking mind. He absently wondered why a psychiatrist had been the doctor to take care of him when he was brought to the ER, but he figured it was because the paramedics had been told of his supposed breakdown by his friends, and the paramedics had in turn informed the hospital while enroute so a head doctor had been called in to take the case.

Sam had insisted that whatever had happened had passed and that he was okay to leave, that he didn't need to be cooped up in this hospital anymore, but the good doctor balked. Dr. Watkins was adament that Sam still needed further evaluation to figure out what had happened and whether it could happen again. The doctor had informed Sam that he wanted to do some tests to determine if there may be physical reasons for what had happened. He wanted to be sure that Sam wouldn't have another episode before he set him loose. Sam sighed as he gazed about his empty hospital room. The doctor had left just moments earlier and already Sam was feeling panic rise in him at being left alone. He knew his family was just down the hall in the family room and that Dr. Watkins was probably informing them at that very moment that they could come back in and he couldn't wait for that to happen.

Sam had the sudden feeling that now would be a good time to go to the bathroom. He would actually be able to go about his business without one of his brothers hovering just outside the door, continually asking if everything was okay and if he was almost done. Sam smiled as he thought about his overprotective family. He had missed them so much. Yes, he had felt a sense of freedom when he came to Stanford, but with that freedom had come an overwhelming feeling of loneliness and fear. He had managed to make several friends very quickly, but the feeling of loneliness hadn't been squelched. The only ones who could take that feeling away was his family. Sam shrugged his shoulders and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He stood and made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind him, but knowing better than to lock it. Once he was finished with his business, he flushed the toilet then went to the sink to wash his hands.

Sam leant over and filled his cupped hands with cold water, splashing it over his face. A sudden feeling of vertigo washed over him and he grasped the side of the sink and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing through his nose in an attempt to clear his head. When Sam opened his eyes, he cried out in fear. His hands scrambled over the sink counter, his hands accidentally brushing a drinking glass off the counter, the glass crashing to the floor and shattering upon impact. Sam scrambled across the floor, his feet tripping over themselves and sending him crashing to the floor. Sam's knees took the full impact of his fall and he cried out in pain, but that didn't stop him from trying to get his hands to the handle of the door, his need to get out and to his family overwhelming him.

Sam felt useless as he sat on the floor, unable to reach the handle. Tears sprang to his eyes and flowed undeterred down his flushed cheeks as the voice telling him he had to pay returned. The panic overtook him and he screamed out, his need for his family overpowering all other things.

"Dad!!!! Help me!! Please…help me!!!!!!!"

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John, Daniel and Dean sat in the psychiatric family room as Dr. Watkins examined Sam, their nerves fraying more and more with each passing minute. They couldn't stand to be away from Sam, especially now with how vulnerable he was. Dean's knee bounced nervously up and down as he eyed the door like a hawk. Daniel paced the length of the floor, his head drooped down to his chest. He was so tired of hospital waiting rooms. Hell, he was tired of hospitals in general, especially when it involved Sam being the one hospitalized. John sat silently in the corner, solemnly watching his sons slowly fall apart. He found it ironic that he and his older sons, tough as nails hunters, could be brought to their knees at the slightest threat to their youngest member. It didn't matter that Sam was technically an adult, he was still the baby of the family. He would always be John's baby, no matter how old he got.

Dean suddenly stood, alerting his older brother and father that someone had entered the room. All eyes turned to Dr. Watkins as he strolled into the room and motioned for the men to each take a seat. After he took a seat himself, the doctor went right into what he had to tell the expectant men.

"So, I've talked with Sam and given him another examination. I don't how to explain how he just suddenly came out of his stupor, but I guess it's as quickly as he went into it, so the whole situation is just plain puzzling," the doctor said, shaking his head slightly.

"Well…what did you find out?" Daniel asked impatiently.

"By all accounts, Sam appears to be perfectly sane. Physically he seems extremely healthy," the doctor replied.

"So…does that mean he's getting out of here?" Dean queried hopefully, his eyes wide as he stared at the doctor.

"Uh…not so fast, Dean. Sam did have some sort of breakdown. There has to be an explanation for that. I would like to perform some more tests tomorrow, but if all comes away normal, I think I will feel comfortable releasing Sam into your care. I don't think he should be alone for awhile though," Dr. Watkins answered.

"Sam will be taken care of, Dr. Watkins. I can assure you, he won't be out of our sight for even a minute," John said.

Dr. Watkins nodded as he stood, the three hunters following suit. "Why don't you go back to Sam. I'm pretty sure he's anxious to see you."

The men shook the doctors hand and quickly made their way to Sam's room. John pushed through the door first, followed closely by Daniel, then Dean. He stopped short when he saw the empty bed, his eyes searching the room before they fell upon the closed bathroom door. He watched the door, sure that Sam would be exiting the room momentarily. He lunged toward the door when Sam's terrified scream carried through the heavy obstruction, grabbing the handle and yanking the door open, his eyes falling to his son who sat huddled on the floor, his eyes staring widely at John but not appearing to actually be seeing him.

"Sammy! What happened?" John cried as he dropped to his knees in front of his son, his heart skipping a beat when Sam seemed to be frantically searching for him even though he was right in front of him.

"D-Dad?" Sam sobbed, his hands reaching out toward John, his fingers frantically grasping John's hand when they came in contact.

Dean and Daniel stood over John, their eyes wide as they watched their panicked brother grasping desperately at their father's hands.

"Sammy…tell me what's wrong! Are you hurt?" John pled as he pulled his trembling son into his arms.

"Dad…I can't…I can't see! Oh my God…I can't see!" Sam cried, collapsing against John's chest, sobs wracking his body.

"What!" Dean and Daniel exclaimed in unison, both young men inching around their father to kneel on either side of their kid brother.

John pushed Sam gently away and took his chin in his hand, pulling Sam's face up so he could look into his eyes. The blank stare that met him made his heart sink into his stomach. Sam's pupils were mere pinpricks in the hazel orbs and it was quite obvious that the boy could not see any of them.

"Sam…when did this happen? Did you hit your head when you fell?" John asked softly, not wanting to further frighten his youngest son.

"I have to pay. Pay the price…first the mind, then the sight. Pay the price…I have to pay the price," Sam whispered, his fingers gripping tightly to John's jacket.

"No Sammy…not again. Please…not again," Daniel cried softly, his fingers carding through Sam's messy hair.

The three men felt helpless as they helped Sam from the floor, the young man beginning to ramble on in the same way he had been the past few days. John and Dean helped him into bed as Daniel left to find Dr. Watkins. Once Sam was settled, his wide sightless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, John and Dean sat on either side of him, their eyes meeting in silent panic. They had had him back, and now they had lost him again, but this time it was so much worse. Now, not only had Sam lost his mind, he had lost his sight too.

"Dad…what's going on? What's happening to Sammy?" Dean questioned softly, taking Sam's hand up into his hands and squeezing gently.

John gazed at Dean before returning his eyes to his youngest. "I don't know, Dean, but I intend to find out," the elder Winchester answered.

"How?"

"I think it's time to call in reinforcements."

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**I hope the chapter satisfied. I hope to get one more up before my trip. Keeping my fingers crossed. Take care.**

**Cindy.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey all!! I have another chapter for you. I hope you like it. **

**Cindy.**

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**Later that day**

John stood outside of Stanford Hospital, his cell phone pressed tightly to his ear as he waited for the line to be picked up. He stood up straighter as his call was answered and he immediately started talking, not giving the person on the other end the time to even finish saying hello.

"Bobby…I need your help. It's Sam…" John started, his voice hitching as he said his youngest son's name.

"_Oh sh*t, Johnny. What's happened?"_ Bobby's concerned voice sounded.

"We don't know. He…something got to him, Bobby. I need you to help me figure out what," John answered.

"_Tell me, Johnny."_

"Three days ago, after Sam took his last final exam, he met with four friends at a local coffee shop here in Palo Alto. The kids were discussing their plans for the summer and just hanging out for the last time before they all headed off for their summer break. Sam just, all of the sudden…he…from his friends accounts, he just lost it…"

"_What do you mean he just lost it?"_

"His friends said that they were all just sitting around, laughing and having a good time then Sam went up to get another coffee. When he came back, he was different. Then, he just started acting strange. He freaked out…he said that two of the guys were…he said…"

"_Johnny…what did Sam say?"_

"He…he thought two of his friends were Michael and Trenton Wilcox. Sh*t, Bobby…he looked at his friends and saw those two monsters."

"_Son of a bitch!"_ Bobby cursed under his breath.

"That's not all, Bobby."

"_What? What else?"_

"Today…he came out of it. We thought we had him back. He thought it was still three days ago. We left him with the doctor and when we came back to his room, he…he was on the bathroom floor and he…he…"

"_He what, John?"_

"He…couldn't see. He's blind, Bobby. He's blind and he's back to being incoherent. He's had moments of lucidity throughout the day, but when he does come back to us, he's in a panic because he can't see. What could cause this, Bobby?"

John's voice broke the older hunter's heart and he knew that Dean and Daniel had to be just as anguished, if not more. _"Could there be a medical explanation, John?"_

"The psych doctor that has been treating Sam seems to think there is. He's brought in a brain specialist. They've got Sammy up doing some sort of scan right now, checking for a possible brain tumor. I don't buy it though, Bobby. Not coming on that suddenly, then just as suddenly leaving, only for him to lose his sight? Something's up, I can feel it, Bobby. Does any of this sound familiar to you?"

_"Uh…I have some ideas, Johnny, but you need to be open to the fact that there truly could be a medical reason for Sam's episodes. There could be nothing supernatural going on here."_

"I know, Bobby…don't you think I know that? I just…I can't shake this feeling that someone or something is doing this to my boy. Please…can you just look into this for us? Dean and Daniel are about to lose it themselves and I'm…I'm not that far behind."

_"You know I'll do everything I can, Johnny. If there's a supernatural explanation, I'll find it. We'll find out what's going on. We'll fix this."_

John gave a relieved sigh, knowing that if anyone could find out what was going on, Bobby could. "Thanks, Bobby. You have no idea what this means to me."

_"No need for thanks, John, you know that. Now, Caleb and Josh are close to you. They just finished up a hunt last night. Do you want me to give them a call and have them swing up?"_

"That would be a great help, Bobby. Me and the boys are about useless right now. It's just too much so soon after everything else. Tell them we're at Stanford Hospital. Sam's in the Psychiatric ward right now, but that could change. Just have Josh give me a call when they get to town."

_"Will do. Sam will be fine, Johnny."_

"I hope so, Bobby. Sam is…well, you know…he's everything to this family. He was doing so good. He was so happy. His calls every week…he was so excited about his classes. The nightmares were going away. He was starting to live again…"

_"He still will, Johnny. This is just a bump in the road. Have faith…in us, in Sam."_

"You're right. It's just hard…seeing Sam like this."

_"I know, but we'll get him back. We'll figure this out and we'll get him back."_

"Thanks, Bobby. Um…I have to get back to the boys. Sam should be coming back any time now and I want to find out what they found. Thanks for everything."

"_Let me know what the doctors say, okay?"_

"I will, and thanks again…for everything you've done for us…for Sammy."

_"I'll call you as soon as I've found anything."_

"Bye, Bobby."

John hung up the phone and leaned against the side of the building, his eyes gazing up into the bright blue sky. He was so thankful for the friends he had. He truly didn't know where he or his family would be without them. Just the thought of having Bobby on the case, and Caleb and Josh on their way eased some of the tension that had settled in his shoulders. A soft voice brought John's thoughts back to the here and now, and he turned his head, his eyes falling on a very pretty blonde. Her large blue eyes gazed up at him as she waited for an answer to her question.

"I'm sorry? Did you say something to me?" John queried, wondering why this young girl would be speaking to him.

"Uh…yeah. I'm sorry, I wasn't listening to your conversation, but I couldn't help but overhear. Are you…are you Sam Winchester's father?" the girl asked.

John stepped forward, his attention firmly on the girl now. He had talked with Sam's friends from that night, but they didn't say anything about anyone else being there. "Yes…I'm Sam's father. Who are you?"

"I…I work at the coffee shop. I was working that evening and…I saw what happened. I just want to know if Sam is okay," the girl said, her soft blonde curls framing her pretty face perfectly.

"What did you see? This is very important. What did you see?" John questioned urgently.

"Sam was with the others…they were laughing and talking. They had just finished their finals. Sam came up to get another latte and there was this strange man…"

"Sam's friends mentioned a man who came in, but they couldn't see his face. They said it looked like he said something to Sam, but they couldn't hear what he said. Did you hear?" John queried, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest.

"That guy was freaky. He had these black eyes, like a birds. When Sam turned to head back to his friends, the guy grabbed his arm and he said the strangest thing."

"What did he say?"

"He said that the mind was a beautiful thing to waste, don't you think, Sam Winchester."

"Wait a minute…he knew Sam's name?"

"Uh…yeah. He said his name. Sam just stood there like he was in shock then the guy left. Sam went back to his friends and a few minutes later he…he lost it."

"Son of a bitch! I knew it!" John cried, the girl flinching at his outburst.

"I know it's none of my business, but do you know what's going on? Is Sam going to be okay?" the girl asked meekly.

"I don't know, but I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that he is. You've been a huge help. Can I ask what your name is?" John asked.

"Jessica. Jessica Moore," the girl answered, her smile brilliant as she softly shook John's hand.

"Well, Jessica. You may have just answered the one question we most needed the answer to. Thank you so much."

"Uh…you're welcome. So, do you think I could visit Sam?"

"I'm sorry, but he's getting tests and they aren't allowing him any visitors but family right now. I'm sure after all of this settles down, he'll want to see you though."

Jessica nodded her understanding then turned and made her way back to the parking lot, giving John one last look over her shoulder. John watched her for a moment before he took out his cell phone and punched in Bobby's number once again.

"Bobby…yeah I know I just talked to you…just…can I talk? Okay, it is something up our alley. I just spoke with another witness. She overheard a man who had come into the coffee house say something to Sam just before Sam lost it. He told Sammy that a mind is a beautiful thing to waste….yeah, I know it's too much of a coincidence. There's something else…the man knew Sammy's name. She said he had black eyes…like a birds."

John nodded as Bobby spoke on the other end of the line, murmuring replies as needed. After a few moments, he thanked Bobby and hung up. He headed back into the hospital, needing it to get to his sons as quickly as he could. He needed to see that Sam was safe. He needed to let his other boys know that they would get Sam back.

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Dean and Daniel were perched on either side of Sam's bed, both gazing intently at their brother when John rushed into the room. The youngest Winchester was deep in sleep, his soft breaths ghosting over his slightly parted lips. An occasional murmur would escape his lips, but nothing coherent. John approached the bed and looked sadly down at his son.

"When did he get back?" the family patriarch inquired.

"They just brought him back a few minutes ago. They had to sedate him so he wouldn't move in the scanner," Daniel answered, his hand absently caressing Sam's right forearm.

John nodded and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "What did the doctor say?"

"Hasn't been in yet. The orderlies said he'd be down in a few minutes, after he goes over the scan," Dean answered.

"They aren't going to find anything," John said softly.

"Dad, it's possible that…" Daniel started.

"No, Danny. I know they aren't going to find anything. I ran into the girl who was working at the coffee shop the night Sam lost it. She heard what the man Sam's friends saw said. He put some sort of curse or something on him. Bobby's checking into it for me as we speak and Caleb and Josh are on their way," John said as he reached up to brush the hair from Sam's closed eyes.

"What did this man say?" Dean queried uneasily.

"He said 'a mind is a beautiful thing to waste, don't you think Sam Winchester'," John replied.

"Wh…he knew Sam's name?" Dean cried.

"Yes, he knew who Sam was…somehow."

"But…how? Why?" Daniel asked, staring fearfully at his baby brother.

"I don't know. That's what we've got to find out," John answered, his eyes suddenly moving to the door when it swung open.

The three hunters stood when Dr. Watkins and the brain specialist, Dr. Alden walked into the room. They eyed the doctors, knowing full well what they were going to hear.

"John…boys, we've completed Sam's tests and…I don't know how to explain it, but…there's nothing in Sam's brain," Dr. Watkins started.

"We did a full MRI. If there was a tumor or other lesion, we would have seen it. Your son's mental breakdown and sudden blindness are not due to a brain malformation. At this point, we see no medical reason for Sam's afflictions. I'm sorry that we can't give you more answers, but from all of the tests performed on Sam, there are just no answers to give," Dr. Alden said softly, the small brunette woman peering at each man apologetically.

"It's okay, Dr. Alden. Thank you for trying," John said, turning his attention to Dr. Watkins. "I'd like to check Sam out of the hospital…today," he said.

Dr. Watkins eyed John wearily and shook his head. "I don't know if that is such a good idea, John. We still don't know what's going on and Sam keeps coming in and out of his psychosis."

"With all due respect, doc," Dean started. "You just said there's no medical explanation so there's no reason to keep Sam here. He'll be better off with his family in more…homelike surroundings."

"I understand, Dean, but with his mental state, he could still be a danger to himself and others. There is a facility that I would like to move him to. They should be able to get to the bottom of this and…"

"No way, doc. Sam's not going to some insane asylum. He's not insane," Daniel cried indignantly.

"It's not an insane asylum, Daniel. Look, I know this is hard, seeing your brother like this, but he needs help. Professional help," the doctor said.

"Dr. Watkins…Sam hasn't been dangerous for days. We have a family friend…a pastor who is also a counselor. He can work with Sam. You can't help him here, and he's not going to any facility," John said evenly.

"John, I can have Sam committed based on his violent behavior earlier this week. Is that what you want?" the doctor asked.

"No…that's not what I want…but, you don't want that either, do you? We won't let anything happen to Sam, or anyone else for that matter. I want to check Sam out, today. Please, don't turn this into a power play. I'll do anything for Sam. The best thing for him is to be with his family."

Dr. Watkins seemed to think about what John had said for a few moments before he looked up and nodded. His eyes moved to the silent boy on the bed, a soft smile curling his lips. For some reason, he didn't think Sam was mentally unstable. He couldn't explain it, but he had the feeling that there was something else going on. Something that the hospital nor any other facility would be unable to cure. He turned to look at Dr. Alden before addressing the Winchester men again.

"Alright. I don't know why, but I think you're right. I think the only thing that will help Sam is to be with his family. I'll have the discharge papers drawn up and you can take Sam this afternoon," the doctor said, silencing Dr. Alden's protests with one raised hand.

"Thanks, doc. We'll take care of him. He's in good hands," Daniel said, moving back to sit on the bed next to Sam's hip.

The two doctors said their goodbyes and left the room. The Winchesters took up their seats around Sam's bed as they waited for the boy to awaken. They hoped that when he did, it would be their Sammy that emerged and not the confused, mumbling version who had become the norm of late. They sat for just a few minutes before Sam began to softly moan, his head rolling listlessly on his pillow. The men became alert to every sound that came from Sam's lips, anxious to see who would awaken.

"D'n? Mmmmmm…what…where am I?" Sam's soft voice queried, his hazel eyes slowly opening, blinking slowly, but still showing that blankness that had been there since he lost his sight.

"I'm here, Sammy. I'm right here, along with Danny and Dad. How you doing, kiddo?" Dean answered, taking Sam's hand into his.

"I'm okay. Why is it so dark in here?" Sam asked, but then he sucked in a quick breath. "I…I remember. I'm blind. What's happening to me?" the suddenly distressed young man pled.

"We don't know, Sammy. Not yet at least, but we're going to find out," John replied, smiling as Sam turned his head in the direction of his voice.

"What do you remember, Sammy?" Daniel asked, his eyes bright.

"I…a man…the coffee shop. I think he did something to me. He says I have to pay. Someone wants me to pay," Sam said, his voice laced with confusion.

"What do you have to pay for, Sam?" John asked.

"I don't know. He's in my head, Dad. I want him out of my head," Sam cried, his legs moving restlessly under the sheet.

"He will be, kiddo. We're taking care of it. Bobby's working on it right now. Caleb and Joshua are on their way. Between all of us, we will find out what's going on," John proclaimed, sudden anger rising in him at whomever was doing this to his baby.

Sam fidgeted in his bed, his fingers worrying the edge of the sheet. "'m sorry," he whispered, the words so soft that the men had to strain to hear them.

"What are you sorry for, Sammy?" Daniel queried, his hand coming up to cup Sam's cheek.

"For all of this…again. I'm sure you guys are tired of me by now. Tired of all of this crap. I don't know why this stuff keeps happening to me. I'm just…I'm sorry."

"Sam, you have nothing to be sorry for. None of what's happened to you…now or before…is your fault. We're going to figure this out. We're just happy that it's you who woke up," Dean said.

"I guess I've been pretty wacked out huh?"

"Well, yeah…but, you're back now…"

"I still can't see though. I don't want to be blind for the rest of my life…"

"You won't be, Sammy. We'll fix this. We promise," John said, ruffling Sam's hair affectionately.

"Thanks, Dad," Sam said, a soft yawn escaping his lips.

"You rest, Sam. We're going to be getting you out of here later. You sleep. We'll wake you when it's time to go," Daniel instructed.

Sam nodded and smiled as his eyes slowly closed and his breathing evened out. The three men gazed down upon him, resolve filling each one.

"Whoever is doing this does not walk away alive," John said, his eyes moving to his two older sons.

"Right with you, Dad," Dean replied.

Daniel nodded his agreement and the three men settled in once again to watch over Sam. They would find who was hurting their boy and they would make him pay. No ifs, ands nor buts about it.

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**Well, that's it...for now. So, I will be leaving for Puerto Rico this coming Tuesday, so I'm pretty sure I will be able to get another chapter posted before then. It's all mapped out in my head, I just need to get it typed. In fact, I have the next few chapters in my head, so my plan is to type them both up, post one and have the other ready to post when I get home on June 1. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and will let me know what you think. Take care.**

**Cindy.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, so I told you that I would post one more chapter before my trip, and here it is. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Cindy.**

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**DAY SIX**

Dean and Daniel hurried about their latest motel room, stuffing clothes and other items into duffel bags while at the same time having their ears wide open to the sounds of their baby brother moving around behind the closed bathroom door. Sam had blessedly been more coherent than not the past day, but had begun to slip into a depression due to his continued blindness and feelings of helplessness. It was for this reason that the older siblings had allowed Sam to attempt his morning ritual without one of them present to make sure he didn't hurt himself, no matter how difficult listening to the bangs and curses coming from the bathroom was. John had left Sam in the care of his brothers while he, Joshua and Caleb went for breakfast takeout, though neither Dean nor Daniel needed to be told to watch out for Sam, it was just something that came as natural as breathing. A loud crash and particularly loud curse had both brothers stopping and moving to the bathroom door, Daniel's hand resting lightly on the doorknob, ready to move into the room if they deemed it to be necessary. Sam's soft, forlorn sounding voice calling from behind the door had Daniel's hand turning the knob and the eldest sibling rushing into the bathroom, only to find Sam crouch down on the floor, his head resting on his bent knees.

"Hey, kiddo…what's wrong?" Daniel said softly as he kneeled down before his brother and carded his hand tenderly through Sam's wet hair.

Dean moved into the room, noticing a broken bottle of aftershave lying on the tiled floor. He turned his concerned eyes to his brothers when Sam answered Daniel, his voice sounding small and sad.

"I knocked something off the counter. I-I think it's your aftershave, Danny. I'm sorry…"

"Hey…hey, Sammy. It's okay. Not your fault little brother. I shouldn't have left it sitting on the counter. I should've put it away as soon as I was done with it," Daniel comforted, his hand moving to rub circles over his distraught brother's shoulder blade.

"I can't do anything without breaking something, or hurting myself. I'm useless…" Sam cried, his head finally coming up to stare sightlessly ahead of himself, forlorn tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

"Don't say that, Sam. You're not useless. You're just not used to doing everything in the dark, kiddo," Dean said as he moved beside Daniel, his hand moving down to rest on Sam's shoulder.

Sam let out a frustrated sigh and sunk down further onto the floor. "I don't think I can do this for the rest of my life. I can't…I can't expect you all to take care of me all of the time, and…"

"Hey…just stop that talk, Sam," Dean said, the middle sibling kneeling beside Daniel so that he was face to face with his baby brother. "You are not going to be blind for the rest of your life. We're going to figure this out and you are going to be back to normal in no time at all."

"What if we don't figure it out? What if there's no way to fix it?" Sam queried fearfully, his hand coming up to search for either brother, needing the comfort their touch brought him.

Daniel took Sam's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, his heart breaking at the fear coming off of the kid in waves. "That's not an option, Sammy. We will figure this out and you will see again. This isn't permanent, kiddo."

"But…how do you know? We don't know what's going on…or why. We don't know who's doing this. We don't know a f***ing thing!" Sam cried, his cursing catching the brothers off guard.

"Sam, think about it. It started with your breakdown and now that's over, for the most part. I'm thinking the blindness is going to be just like that. It's going to be temporary…" Daniel started, his words cutting off at the suddenly vacant look on Sam's flushed, tear streaked face.

"Sammy? Wh-what's wrong, kiddo?" Dean queried nervously, watching with confusion as Sam turned his head from side to side as if trying to hear a faraway sound.

When Sam didn't answer, Dean reached out and grasped Sam's arm, they youngest brother flinching violently at the sudden touch. He started to mutter softly, his voice taking on a hollow, monotone timbre. Dean and Daniel eyed each other with confusion before turning back to Sam.

"Sam…tell us what's wrong. You're scaring us here," Daniel said soothingly, not wanting to frighten his brother.

Daniel stared at Sam when the younger man didn't acknowledge his question and a sudden and frightening thought occurred to him. He reached his hand up and snapped his fingers loudly next to Sam's ear, turning fear filled eyes to Dean when he received no reaction. Dean gasped as he turned back to Sam and repeated Daniel's actions to Sam's other ear.

"D'n…D'nl? I…I cn't hear…" Sam whispered, new tears streaking down his cheeks.

"Oh my God…" Daniel cried softly, his arms moving around his distraught baby brother. "Dean…go call Dad. I think the curse just took another turn for the worse."

Dean nodded, his panicked eyes resting on Sam for a moment before he hurried from the room to make the call that would bring his father rushing back to the room. In the bathroom, Daniel helped his frighteningly silent brother from the floor and helped him from the room and to his bed. He tenderly guided Sam to the mattress, the younger man immediately scooting down and turning on his side, his shoulders shaking softly as he quietly sobbed. Daniel turned to watch Dean as he talked to their father, Dean turning to him, conveying with his eyes just how John was taking the news that Sam was now not only blind, but suddenly deaf also. A few more quiet words and Dean flipped his phone shut, and came to sit on the bed that Sam lay curled on, his back to both brothers. He reached out and softly rested his hand on Sam's arm, the youngest brother barely moving at the touch. Both brothers sat, watching over their baby brother until five minutes later, the motel room door swung suddenly open and John rushed into the room, his eyes immediately falling on his prone youngest son.

"Sammy?" he queried as he hurried to the bed, frowning when Sam failed to acknowledge his voice.

"Dad…we have to stop this. First his mind, then his sight and now his hearing? What the f*** is going on?" Dean shot, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

John sat on the bed opposite Sam and Dean and ran his hand through his hair as he shook his head. Joshua and Caleb had followed the eldest Winchester into the room, but stood back from the small family, their gazes glued to the youngest as he lay trembling on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. All eyes moved to John as he flipped his phone open and punched in a number, putting the phone to his ear, his gaze falling to his youngest son as he waited for the call to be answered. He sat up straighter as the line was picked up.

"Bobby…please, tell me you know what the hell is going on, because Sammy…he…he can't hear now. Please, Bobby…" the hardened hunter pled, a tear trailing down his stubbled cheek.

"_Oh crap, Johnny. That just confirms what I was just about to call to tell you,"_ the older hunter replied, his voice sounding as if he hadn't slept for days, which John figured wasn't very far from the truth.

"What is it, Bobby? What's doing this to my baby?" John cried, his head falling into his open palm, his elbow resting on his knee.

"_Shax. I'm pretty sure it's a demon named Shax,"_ Bobby answered, wishing like hell that he were wrong.

"Shax? Where have I heard that name before?" John queried, his gaze moving to Joshua and Caleb questioningly, each man shaking his head, indicating that they did not recognize the name.

"_The Lesser Key of Solomon. Shax is the forty fourth demon of the seventy two demons listed in the grimoire. It is probably the most popular book on demonology and most consider it to be the real deal. Anyway, Shax has the ability to take away the understanding, sight and hearing of any person of the conjurer's request,"_ Bobby explained.

"Wait…the conjurer?" John queried.

_"Johnny…someone had to conjure this demon and specifically tell it to put these curses on Sam. For whatever reason, Sam was targeted."_

"F***! How the hell do we stop it? Tell me we can find this f***ing demon and send it back to hell!" John cried as he suddenly stood from the bed and began to pace, the other hunters in the room watching him warily.

_"Wish I could, John. As far as I can find, there is no exorcism that will work on one of the seventy two demons, and we can't conjure the bastard because he's already been conjured."_

"So, we have to just leave Sammy like this? What the hell, Bobby?"

_"Not necessarily. It's possible that the curses could wear off. The last time we talked, you said that he was pretty much back to himself, mind wise. The conjurer may very well have instructed Shax to only allow the curses to last so long."_

"I really don't think we could be that lucky. Why curse him and only have the curses be temporary? Why target Sam in the first place?"

_"I don't know, Johnny. You said that Sam's friends said he thought that two of them were Michael and Trenton Wilcox. Could someone from that family be doing this?"_

"I don't see it, Bobby. The rest of that family was happy to be rid of those two and you know how much we investigated after that to make sure there would be no more surprises. Sam never gave any indication that he'd made any enemies at Stanford. This just doesn't make sense."

_"Well…what about you, John? Can you think of anyone who would want to harm you by going after Sam? That would be the only other scenario I can think of."_

"What? So you think someone may be hurting Sammy to get to me?" John asked incredulously, his rage growing at the thought that he may be the reason for what was happening to his baby.

_"Well, either Sam pissed someone off or you did."_

"Son of a bitch! Well, it ain't Sammy who pissed someone off, that's for sure. So, he's being hurt because of me. But, who would do this? I can't think of anyone who would go this far, Bobby."

_"I hate to add to everything, Johnny, but this may only be the beginning."_

"What do you mean, Bobby?"

_"Well, there are seventy two demons listed in the grimoire. The conjurer is not limited in the number of demons he can summon. Who knows how many this bastard has conjured."_

"So…there could be more demons coming after Sam? Well, that's just f***ing great!" John cried, his sons turning fear filled eyes his way, momentarily breaking their watch on Sam.

_"I'm afraid so, Johnny. Where are you right now?"_

"We're at a motel in Cheyenne. The Giddyup Inn. What do you want us to do?" John answered.

_"Stay there. I'm heading out now. You don't want to be on the road and have something else happen. There's any number of things that these demons can pull. You're better off just sitting tight and waiting for me. Don't let Sam out of your sight. Put up any protections you can think of. I don't know how far the reach of these demons can go and I'm not sure if protections can stop a curse. I'll be there in about six hours, give or take."_

"Okay, Bobby. We'll be waiting. If you think of anything else…"

_"I know, Johnny. I'll call if I hear anything from any of my contacts. See you in about six."_

"Thanks, Bobby."

John flipped his phone shut and wearily glanced up at four sets of expectant eyes. He shook his head and moved around Sam's bed so he could sit where he could see his baby's face. He smiled slightly when he saw that Sam was sleeping. "The poor kid must be exhausted," he whispered as he reached out to brush messy bangs from Sam's eyes.

"Dad…what's going on?" Daniel asked, a knot in his stomach.

"Bobby's pretty sure that it's a demon named Shax. This demon has to be summoned to lay his curses on the conjurers intended victim. Someone targeted Sam, and there's a possibility that another demon could be summoned to continue hurting him," John answered.

"So, either Sam did something to make someone want to hurt him, or we did?" Dean queried, his hands fisting by his sides.

"That's about the gist of it. We know it's not Sammy who brought this on himself, so it has to be someone trying to get back at me," John replied as he leaned against the headboard, intent on being as near to Sam as he could.

"Who? Who would do this? I can't think of any hunter who would do this," Daniel asked, nodding as Caleb pulled a chair near the bed and sat down next to him.

"What about a case? Is there anyone we could have pissed off on a hunt? A disgruntled cop maybe?" Dean questioned.

"I just don't know, Dean. I can tell you this though. The second I find out who is doing this, they are going to regret the day they ever laid eyes on me," John answered.

The men took up the take out breakfast, long cold and began to eat in silence as they watched over the sleeping member of their rag tag group. They didn't need to put up protections as that had already been done, but they didn't know how much help they would be. Sam had been inflicted with deafness while in the protected room so they didn't have much faith in the protections they had in place.

On the bed, Sam lay perfectly still, awake but lost in the confines of his own head. He could not see nor hear, but he could sense his family around him and he took some comfort in that fact. He had felt the bed dip in front of him, and from the familiar scent, he knew it was his father. He nearly flinched when he felt a soft touch to his forehead, but was able to hold in the movement. He wanted his family to think he was asleep as he didn't want them fussing over him. He knew that would be his life from now on, that he would constantly be watched, unable to do for himself.

With his two most precious senses lost to him, Sam found himself quickly falling into despair, sure that he would never hear or see again. He wondered how long it would be before he was shipped off to live permanently with Pastor Jim, knowing full well a blind, deaf hunter was just not going to happen. He knew his family would come to see him as often as they could, but with all of the evil out there, he also knew those visits would be few and far between. Not that he would really notice if they were there or not. Sure, he could feel them and smell them, but to never be able to see them or talk and joke with them was more than Sam could bare. He curled further into himself and willed himself to fall asleep. At least when he was asleep, he wouldn't know that he had become completely useless to his family, that he had become someone who would never be anything but a burden. It took several minutes, but finally Sam fell into blissful sleep, the fear and feelings of worthlessness falling away as the darkness consumed him.

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Outside the motel room, a man of average build with black, birdlike eyes smiled as he soaked in the feelings flooding from the room. The feelings of fear, rage and guilt. The man turned and walked away, disappearing into the night, knowing that his task was complete and that it was now The Presidents turn to bring darkness to the Winchester family.

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**So? Poor Sammy, feeling useless and a burden. His family feeling useless. Now, how in the heck are they going to figure out who is doing this to Sam? And, just what does The President have in store for the youngest Winchester? More to come after I return from my trip. I'll be taking my notebook with me so I can jot down notes and ideas as they come to me. I will be home June 1 but won't probably start typing anything until the next day or so after that. I'm sorry that you'll have to wait so long, but hopefully the next chapter will make up for it. I'll try to make it extra long for you all. **

**On another note, I've been asked by a few people what celebrity I think would be good for playing Daniel. I have never really thought about it, but after doing just that, Ryan Reynolds kept coming to mind. I think he could be a cross between Dean and Sam. So, who do you think would make a good Daniel?**

**Cindy.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey all...I'm back!!!! I had a wonderful time on my trip. The weather was great. A bit hot for my taste, and very humid, but not too bad. The resort was amazing, right on the beach. My husband won the award he was up for. He was named the Associate of the Year, Heart of the House for every Wingate Inn in the world. Pretty amazing accomplishment. He works hard and definitely deserved the award and recognition. We spent a lot of time walking on the beach, sitting by the pool and on the beach. We took a tour of Old San Juan and learned a lot of the history of Puerto Rico. We fed the Iguana's that lived at the resort. That was a huge highlight for me. I very much enjoyed my time in Puerto Rico, but was so ready to come home to the mountains of Montana. I missed my boys very much and couldn't wait to see them. My eighteen year old had a dozen roses waiting for me when we got home. What a sweetheart, but don't tell him that! LOL He'd be so embarrassed. One thing that stood out for me was during the sit down luncheon at my husbands conference, the keynote speaker was the man who wrote The Pursuit of Happyness...the man Will Smith portrayed in the movie. I believe his name is Chris Gardner. He was an excellent speaker. Very well spoken and extremely funny. **

**So, that is just a short description of my trip. Now, onto the story. **

**Cindy.**

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**Later That Day**

Sam lay silently on the bed, his worried family milling about, unwilling to leave the room and unable to offer him any comfort. He flinched every time he was touched, and he would emit soft mewling noises from deep within his throat, the sounds a testament to his despair and fear. The men felt helpless in their attempts to help the youngest hunter and could only imagine what Sam was going through. They wondered what was going through the young man's head and they desperately wondered how to help him when he could not see nor hear them. They had attempted several times to get Sam to eat, but he would jerk his head away, refusing to take the food. Sam spent most of his time curled in a ball, his arms wrapped tightly around his body as he either slept or murmured quietly to himself. The few times that he needed to get up to go the bathroom had been disasters as he had to be helped to and from the facilities and his fumbling to find the toilet bowl and to stay in one spot without soiling the floor and himself had left the boy in tears.

Dean and Daniel stayed as close to their brother as they could without causing him distress, both brothers refusing to leave his side. John sat at the small table the room offered, Joshua sitting opposite him on the other chair. Caleb had gone to get the men some dinner and they all expected Bobby to arrive at any time. John's eyes kept wandering from the research he was doing to the bed where his youngest son lay silently, his two older sons sitting like sentinels on either side of their charge. John smiled warmly at the scene, his heart swelling with pride as he gazed at the two protective young men. He never had to worry about Sam being taken care of, knowing that the two older siblings would always be there for their baby brother. His biggest concern right now was not whether his older sons would take care of Sam, but whether the youngest would allow it to happen. His baby had shut down, had been pushing all of them away whenever they tried to reach him. Not that John could blame Sam. He could not even imagine what Sam was going through. For someone so furiously independent, to suddenly lose his two most important senses was beyond John's comprehension. It had to be killing Sam to not know if he would ever regain his vision and hearing, and to not know why this was happening to him.

John's guilt was continuing to build as he became more and more certain that Sam's afflictions were due to something he had done. He had crossed someone, somehow and now his baby boy was paying the price. John vowed that whomever the coward was, they would pay for punishing an innocent boy for something he had nothing to do with. Nobody hurt one of his boys without paying a very steep price. John was brought out of his musings when the door to the motel room opened and Caleb walked through, his arms laden with takeout bags.

"Look who I found," the smiling hunter exclaimed as he turned his head to acknowledge the newcomer who followed close behind him, a tray of drinks perched in his hand.

"Bobby…it's good to see you," John said as he stood and crossed to the door, his hand outstretched to his friend.

Bobby took John's hand with his free hand and shook it vigorously. "Me too, Johnny. How's our boy?" the grizzled hunter queried, his eyes moving to the form curled on the bed between his two brothers.

"Not good. He just lies there. He won't let anyone touch him. He won't eat or drink," John explained, his eyes glazing over with sadness.

"Well, can you blame him?" Bobby queried.

"No…but, I can worry. He needs to eat…he needs water. I can't stand to see him like this. I know he's hurting and there's nothing we can do for him because he won't let us touch him and right now, that's the only way to get through to him," John said.

"We'll get him through this, John. Now, why don't we eat then we can get started on trying to figure out who's hammered the nails into their own coffin," Bobby replied.

The men in the room nodded in agreement. The one responsible for Sam's torment had no idea what he had done by going after the youngest Winchester. He may have the upper hand at the moment, but that would change and the doomed person would go down hard. Caleb handed out the takeout to each man, placing Sam's sandwich in Dean's waiting hands. Dean put his own food aside as he prepared himself for the task at hand. He unwrapped Sam's ham sandwich and set it on the bedspread. He then reached over and tentatively touched Sam's arm, pulling back when the younger man flinched at the touch. Dean would have none of it though. Sam needed nourishment and he needed water and the middle sibling was determined that this time, he would get it.

Dean grasped Sam's arm gently, refusing to let go when Sam began to struggle. He pulled him up, careful not to hurt him and guided him back against the headboard, buoyed by the fact that Sam had barely fought the action. Next, Dean picked up the sandwich and placed it up to Sam's lips. When Sam turned his head away, Dean reached over and cupped his cheek, pulling his face back around and placing the sandwich near his lips again, his hand remaining on Sam's cheek. Sam fought against the hold as he pursed his lips together, refusing the food before him. Dean's eyes filled as he tried to get his brother to eat, tried to get him to accept the comfort his family offered. His hand trembled as he continued to hold his brother's cheek and he glanced quickly around to see each of the other men watching them closely. His attention was drawn back to Sam when a tentative hand covered his and he drew in a breath when he saw the tears that trailed down Sam's cheek.

"Sammy?" Dean whispered, his heart picking up pace when Sam opened his mouth and took a small bite of the sandwich.

Dean smiled, his heart filled with elation at this huge step. He looked around once again and saw the same emotions playing over the other men's faces. Daniel moved closer and held a bottle of water to Sam's lips, the youngest taking the drink greedily. The men didn't know what had caused this change in Sam's demeanor, but they weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sam may not be back one hundred percent, but he was eating and drinking and that was definitely a step in the right direction.

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Sam lay, lost in the darkness and silence of his prison. He knew where he was and he knew that his family was near. He may not be able to see nor hear them, but he could still sense their presence. He knew that Dean and Daniel were near as he could easily make out both of their colognes as well as being able to feel the slightest movements that they made. Even without these indicators, he would have known they were there. His brothers were never far away when he was in peril and he knew without being able to see and hear that they were there, right beside him, as they always were. Sam hated that he was probably hurting his family, but he couldn't break free from the despair and depression that had descended upon him. He wanted to accept their comfort, needed the comfort, but he just couldn't seem to do what was needed to allow them to help him.

A tender hand grasped his arm and Sam flinched away from it even though he wanted to reach out and embrace it with all he had. He expected the hand to be pulled away, just like all the times before, but this time that didn't happen. This time, the grasp tightened and Sam felt himself being pulled up into a sitting position and gently guided back against the headboard. A few moments later, something was pressed lightly against his lips and Sam could smell the scent of freshly sliced ham and swiss cheese and he turned his head away, the thought of food turning his stomach. A tender hand cupped his cheek and pulled his head around and the food was once again put to his lips. Sam reached up and covered the hand that held his cheek, and he sucked in a breath at the trembling he felt. Something changed in the youngest Winchester at that moment. He could no longer allow himself to hurt his family, to cause them worry. He opened his mouth and took a small bite. Sam chewed the food and then felt something else touch his dry lips. Cool, refreshing liquid wet his lips and Sam began to drink, taking large gulps as his brain acknowledged his need for fluids. Sam whimpered lightly when the bottle was pulled away, but relaxed with a tender touch to his hand. He understood immediately what the touch meant. He could almost hear his brother's words. 'Not too fast, Sammy. You'll make yourself sick.' Sam leaned into the touch and smiled ever so slightly, but enough for the men in the room to see.

Daniel, at seeing Sam's lips lift, reached up to take Sam's face gently into his hands. He pulled Sam's face to him and tenderly kissed his forehead then released his face and ruffled his messy hair. Sam leaned into this brother, his face nestling into the crook of the eldest siblings neck. Daniel gazed at the relieved faces of his brother and the other hunters then wrapped his arms around his baby brother and hugged him for all he was worth. Sam sagged against him, Daniel feeling the tension leaving the younger man's body instantly. Dean reached over and softly rubbed circles over Sam's back, his smile a mile wide. After a few moments, Sam pulled away from Daniel's embrace, his cheeks wet with his tears. He reached up to tentatively touch Daniel's cheek, then whispered in a sad, toneless voice. "'m sorry."

Daniel pulled back and grasped the hand that touched his cheek. He held Sam's hand to his face and shook his head, hoping that Sam would understand that he had nothing to be sorry for. He reached out and cupped the nape of Sam's neck and squeezed gently. Sam's sightless eyes stared ahead and the younger boy nodded slowly, another smile creeping over his face. Daniel pulled away from Sam and nodded to Dean, who once again lifted the sandwich to Sam's mouth. Sam, upon feeling the food touch his lips again, lifted his hands and took the sandwich from his brother. Both older brothers smiled as they saw the independent streak return, albeit slightly, to their kid brother and they relaxed back as Sam began to eat the sandwich with just a small amount of difficulty. The other men in the room remained silent, each eating their meal, but keeping their attention on the heartwarming scene before them. John swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat, his pride swelling within him at how wonderful all of his sons had turned out to be. His baby, despite horrifying circumstances, was still Sam, always worrying more about his family than himself. He knew how hard it was for Sam to be so dependent upon others, but the youngest Winchester had once again put his personal discomfort aside to assure that his brothers would be okay. John wasn't sure what he had done to deserve such brave, strong men for sons, but he silently thanked God for giving them to him.

John knew for certain that this was only a short reprieve and that Sam was far from being okay, but he welcomed the lightened atmosphere with open arms. Sam was smiling. His older brothers were smiling. The other hunters, who were family in John's eyes, were smiling. Now, it was John's turn to smile. It wouldn't be long before the smiles were just a faded memory, but for now all was okay in the small, cramped motel room. John, however, couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to turn a whole lot darker and that what this rag tag family was enduring right now was going to get so much worse before it got better. If it got better. No, John vowed, not if…when. They would not fail. They would find whomever was responsible for hurting their youngest member, and they would make the bastard pay. John shook his head against the dark thoughts, unwilling to ruin the moment. For now, everyone was relaxed, enjoying the sight of Sam finally eating, drinking and smiling. There was time for brooding and planning revenge…tomorrow.

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Dean awoke to the sound of someone softly moaning, the gentle rustling of bed sheets bringing him fully awake. He turned his head to his right, seeing that Daniel, who slept in the bed with him, was still soundly lost in the land of nod. Next, he lifted his head to look over Daniel to where Sam lay on the other bed. It was immediately apparent to the middle sibling that Sam was caught in the grip of another nightmare. He quietly got up from the bed, careful not to awaken his older brother and silently crept to the other bed where Sam slept. The youngest brother whimpered pitifully, his head rolling restlessly on his pillow, his legs kicking weakly under the sheets. Dean sat carefully on the edge of the bed and reached up to rest his hand on Sam's damp forehead, sighing in relief when Sam didn't jerk awake, his blank eyes filled with fear.

"Shhhh, Sammy. I'm here kiddo. I'm here," Dean cooed, even though he knew that Sam couldn't hear him…wouldn't hear him even if he were awake.

Sam continued to moan and whimper as Dean tried to comfort him. Normally, when Sam was having a nightmare, all Dean had to do was touch him and whisper into his ear and the younger boy would calm instantly. Now, with Sam's hearing gone, that strategy could not work. Dean's thumb caressed tenderly over Sam's brow, but the boy still was lost in his dream. Without further thought, Dean pulled the sheets up and slipped under them. He put his arms around Sam and gently pulled the young man to his side. Sam tensed slightly, but didn't waken. Dean's hand moved to brush tenderly through Sam's hair, another action that Dean would use to comfort an upset younger brother. The tension slowly left Sam's body and the younger man finally settled into a more restful sleep, the moans and whimpers tapering off until just a soft snore met Dean's relieved ears. Sam snuggled into Dean, his face nuzzling the older brother's shoulder and Dean smiled as the moment brought back fond memories of a much younger Sam. Dean leant into Sam and kissed his head.

"I'm going to fix this, Sammy. I promise you that I'm going to fix this," Dean whispered. "I know you can't hear me, but I hope you know that we are doing everything we can to find who is doing this. Whomever it is, they are going to pay, Sammy."

Dean pulled Sam closer, needing the contact as much, if not more than his brother. He could not understand why Sam was always the one the baddies went after. His sweet natured, bighearted brother seemed to always be a target and it pissed Dean off to no end. Since he was a baby, the big evils seemed attracted to Sam and the family had to be ever diligent in their protection of the youngest member of their family. Dean was so thankful for the friends that they had. The friends that were more like family, who would give their own lives in a heartbeat to protect Sam…to protect them all.

"Sammy, I don't why this keeps happening to you. It's like you're a character in some story written by some twisted person who enjoys hurting you. I don't understand, but I will always be here to keep you safe. We all will be, you can count on that," Dean said softly, his arms tightening slightly around his brother. "I love you, Sammy."

Dean slowly closed his eyes, Sam's warm breath ghosting over his chest lulling him to sleep. In the other bed, Daniel lay awake, his eyes filled with tears as he listened to his brother's comforting words. He too couldn't understand why the baddies seemed to always target Sam, but he was just as dedicated to protecting the youngest Winchester as Dean was. He would protect him with his life…hell, he would protect any of the others with his life. Daniel allowed himself to slowly drift off to sleep again, knowing that Sam was safe in his brother's arms and that just across the room, stretched out in the armchair his father slept, ever ready to protect his family even in sleep. On the other side of the wall, just an adjoining door away, was the other members of their family, and Daniel knew it was as safe as it could possibly be. Within moments, the eldest Winchester sibling was sound asleep, unaware that across the room, his father only appeared to be sleeping. John would not allow himself the luxury of sleep. He dozed, but that was all he would allow. He would watch over his sons as they slept. He would keep them all safe. He would not let anymore harm come to any of them. His love for his boys ran deep and he would stop at nothing to protect them. He would go to the depths of Hell if it would keep his sons safe.

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Candlelight danced off the walls of the semi-dark room. The sound of soft chanting filled the small room. The man once again stood within the circle he had created on the floor, his feet directly over the red diamond. The triangle symbol was in front of him and his eyes stared intently at it as he said the final word to his evocation. "Marbas…" he whispered, his eyes wide as a mist began to form over the triangle.

A form began to take shape over the symbol on the floor and the man fought against the urge to take a step backward when the form took the shape of a large, fearsome looking lion. The lion roared, the great sound reverberating off the walls of the room. The man reached up to cover his ears, his eyes never leaving the huge animal before him. The lion turned until it faced the man, it's eyes filled with knowing. "What is it you request of me?" the animal queried, the words sounding quite strange to the man as they came from the lion's mouth.

"First, I command that you take to form of man," the conjurer said, his hands slowly lowering to his sides.

"As you wish." The lion slowly began to walk in a tight circle and within moments, had transformed into a large, golden hair man. "Now, why have I been summoned?"

"Marbas, the Great President of Hell, I seek your help this night to seek revenge for a great wrong that was bestowed upon me," the man said, his voice strong and sure.

"Ahhh…you wish for me continue where my comrade, Marquis Shax left off?"

"Yes. I wish for you to commit your curse upon Sam Winchester, just as Shax before you did. As we speak, the young man is without his sight and hearing. His family is lost as to how to help him. It is my wish to bring John Winchester and his two oldest sons to their very knees."

"And you think that by cursing the youngest, you will accomplish this?"

"It is the only thing that will accomplish it."

"You do know what you are asking, do you not? John Winchester and his family are not to be taken lightly. The more you hurt their youngest, the more ire you bring upon yourself. They will hunt you to the ends of the earth. They will not stop until you are dead."

"As long as they live the rest of their lives knowing that they caused the pain and ultimate death of their beloved Sam, I do not care if they find and kill me. I welcome it."

The demon nodded, his lips twisted in to an evil sneer. "I will do as you ask of me."

"I want Sam Winchester to suffer. The more he suffers, the more his family suffers. I command that you let loose your curse upon the boy. I do not want him dead. Not yet. That honor will be mine. Take him to the brink, then bring him back. I want there to be pain. Much pain. Once you have fulfilled my wish, you are to return from whence you came."

"As you wish. I will do as you command."

With that, the demon disappeared in a puff of smoke. The man stepped from the circle, a small shudder running up his spine. He wondered, ever so briefly, if he was doing the right thing. Was bringing pain and torment to an innocent boy going to bring his family back to him? The man shook himself out of his thoughts. Sam Winchester was not innocent. He had convinced himself of that fact. There was no way that the boy could be innocent…not when he had Winchester blood flowing through his veins. He was just as bad as his father and brothers, the man was sure of it. The man walked across the room and stepped through the door into the cool night air. He needed to make haste to get to where the Winchesters and their friends were. He wanted to see for himself the pain he brought upon the hated family. The Winchesters wouldn't know what hit them when their beloved Sam, still blind and deaf was hit with the latest curse. The man trembled with anticipation. He couldn't wait for the latest curse to be placed upon the young man. He was moving closer and closer to the final, climatic act. He would personally be taking care of the final act. He would be the one to ultimately bring the Winchesters, and their friends to their very knees. He would be the one to take Sam away from them. He would be the one to hold the boy's life his hands. He would be the one to snatch the very breath from Sam Winchester, and the boys family would finally be destroyed.

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**Well, I hope that was worth the wait. Please let me know what you think. I'll get more up just as soon as I can. I have a lot of reading to catch up on myself, so it may be this weekend before I get more up for you. Take care all and thank you for being patient.**

**Cindy.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey all! I have another chapter ready for you. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Cindy.**

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**Two Days Later**

'_Another day, another motel,' _Daniel thought as he sat at the small table that occupied one corner of the non-discript motel room that he and his family shared. Different day, same décor. Daniel shook his head as he gazed around the room. His eyes fell upon the still form of his baby brother as the younger man slept on the furthest bed from the door. Sam was silent save for the occasional moan and whimper. It killed Daniel not to be able to talk to Sam, not to be able to hear his voice. At least the way Sam's voice normally sounded. On the rare occasion that Sam would speak, his voice sounded toneless and hollow. Daniel knew it was because Sam couldn't hear himself, but it bothered the eldest Winchester sibling immensely to hear that voice coming from his kid brother. He wanted to hear the soft, warm voice that was solely his Sammy.

Daniel had been wracking his brain as to just what was going on. He knew it was a demon, and that someone had to have conjured it, but he couldn't figure out who it could be who would do this to an innocent kid. Plus, he couldn't figure out why Sam was still blind. If he went on how long Sam was, for a better phrase, 'out of his mind,' then Sam should have regained his sight after three days, but it had been five. _'Don't try to make_ _sense of demons, you idiot,'_ he thought wryly to himself. Daniel knew that demons didn't play by the rules. They made their own rules. Maybe Sam would never regain his sight and hearing. No…that was unacceptable. Sam would see and hear again, and whomever was responsible for hurting him would pay. Sitting in the room, basically alone, gave Daniel time to think. Too much time to think as it was. He remembered the things that Bobby said about there being more than one demon listed in the Lesser Key of Solomon. His greatest fear was that what was happening to Sam was only the beginning. If Bobby was right, then any one of those demons could be coming for his baby brother, and it was anybody's guess on which one or what that demon would do. They had to find who was doing this and stop them before any more harm could come to Sam. The ringing of the room phone startled Daniel out of his thoughts and he jumped up to answer it, hoping it was his dad or Dean saying that they found out something.

"Tell me you found the son of a bitch…" Daniel started as soon as the phone was to his ear.

"Now that wasn't very nice, Daniel Winchester," the voice on the other end of line hissed, amusement apparent in the hateful tone.

"Who the hell is this?" Daniel demanded, his eyes moving fearfully to his still sleeping brother.

"I'm the one who holds all the cards, Daniel," the voice said.

"Why are you doing this? Sam's never hurt anyone," Daniel said, his jaw clenching in anger.

"This isn't about little Sammy. True, he's the one suffering…but then, so are you and your family, right?"

"What do you want?"

"I want you, your brother and your father to pay."

"Pay for what? And why Sam?"

"You know what you did. And as for Sam? What better way to bring you all to your knees? Target the innocent. The one you all hold so dear. I know all about your family, Daniel. I know how you all are with Sammy…"

"Don't call him that you bastard…"

"Yes…that's right. Only you and your family can call him that. Anyway, Sam is the heart of your family, correct? Strike at the heart and the rest will whither away. Tell me, Daniel. If Sam dies, what becomes of your family? Could you all survive?"

"You son of a bitch! You stay away from my brother. I'll kill you…"

"Yes, yes…I know. I don't care. Once I destroy your family, I plan on ending it anyway. I have nothing to lose…I've already lost everything."

"Tell me why you are doing this."

"I want to speak to your father. Get him on the line for me."

"He's not here…now, tell me…"

"I'll only speak with your father. I'll call back. Keep an eye on that baby brother of yours. We wouldn't want anything to happen to him, now would we?" The man laughed as he hung up, leaving Daniel to gape at the phone in shock.

"Daniel…what's wrong?" Dean's voice queried, alerting Daniel that his family had returned.

Daniel looked up from the phone receiver, his eyes wide. Dean stopped in his tracks, sudden wariness washing over him. "Daniel…"

"It was him, Dean. It was him…" Daniel whispered.

Dean shot across the room, ripping the receiver from his older brother's hand. He slammed the phone down when all he heard was dial tone. Both brothers turned their attention to the door when John and the others entered the room, dejection evident on their worn faces. The men stopped as they saw the looks on the younger hunter's faces.

John stepped closer to his sons, his breath hitching. His eyes turned to Sam, suddenly very afraid. When he saw that Sam was sleeping somewhat peacefully, he returned his gaze to his sons. "What's going on?" he queried.

"The son of a bitch…the one doing this to Sam…he called. He knows we're here. He threatened Sammy," Daniel hissed as he sat on the edge of Sam's bed, his fingers reaching out to absently brush the hair from the sleeping boy's eyes.

"What!? When?" Bobby exclaimed as he rushed to John's side.

"Just now. He said he wanted to talk to you, Dad. He said he would call back. He…he asked me what would become of us if…if Sam…"

"If Sam what, Daniel?" Dean asked, wary of the answer.

"If…if Sam dies…"

Dean collapsed on the other bed, his trembling hand brushing through his spiked hair. "Who is it, Daniel? Who's doing this?" he asked, his voice shaking with fury.

"I don't know. His voice sounded familiar, but I just can't place him. He's crazy, I can tell you that. I told him I was going to kill him and he didn't care. He said if we don't kill him, he's gonna do it himself. Says he has nothing to lose…that he's already lost everything," Daniel said, the other hunter's eyes widening at the revelation.

"Well, that just makes this even more dangerous. A man who has nothing to lose will do anything to get what he wants," Joshua said, his deep voice thick with anger.

"I think he's planning something. Something's gonna happen soon. He told me to keep an eye on Sam," Daniel said.

"Daniel, he won't get near Sammy," Dean said with conviction.

"Him? No…but a demon can."

"Not if we can help it. We keep up the protections and wards…" Caleb started.

"It didn't keep Sam from going blind and deaf," Daniel whispered, his hand resting on Sam's arm.

"I think this demon…Shax…he placed all three curses on Sam that first night. He just…spaced them out," Bobby offered.

"You think…but, you don't know for sure," John said, his worried gaze sweeping over his sons.

"Why hasn't Sammy regained his sight? He recovered from his mind thing after three days," Dean queried from his place on his bed.

"Shax can control how long his curses last. Maybe it was his intent to have Sam regain his sanity so that he would know what was happening to him when his sight and hearing left him. Maybe he's keeping Sam this way as a way to keep us off kilter. I really don't know," Bobby replied, his voice apologetic.

"So, you said there are other demons. What could these demons do?" Caleb asked as he moved to sit at the small table.

"Any number of things actually. One can make men commit murder and make a person invisible. One drowns men and another can change a man into any shape it desires. One can destroy the conjurer's enemies by burning them to death while another can produce hallucinations and transport men at will. One can cause great illness, only to cure it if the conjurer wishes it," Bobby answered, the men in the room paling at the list of possible curses that could befall Sam.

"Well, that's just frickin' great!" Dean cried, his face paling considerably.

"Dean…take it easy. We won't let any of those things happen," John said with conviction, his eyes moving to Sam when his youngest son began to stir.

John moved to the bed and gently caressed Sam's cheek with his thumb. Sam jumped slightly as his eyes popped open, the hazel orbs staring sightlessly in John's direction. Sam raised a hand to John's face, his fingers ghosting over his father's stubbly skin. Sam smiled softly as he pulled his hand away. "D'd…" he whispered, knowing instantly who sat beside him.

John grasped Sam's hand and squeezed lightly to let Sam know that he was correct. Sam pushed himself up until he rested against the headboard of his bed, his hand still within his father's grasp. The other men in the room gazed upon the scene, sad smiles alighting their faces. Daniel moved to sit on the other side of Sam and reached up, ruffling Sam's hair. Sam turned in his direction, reaching up in the same way he did with his father. He trailed his fingers lightly over Daniel's face, then up to his hair.

"Dn'l," he said, that strange hollow tone in his voice. "Wh'r D'n?" the youngest Winchester asked, his brow furrowed.

Dean stood from the bed he sat upon and moved over to Sam's bed. He reached for Sam, taking his hand and squeezing gently. Sam smiled as he realized that he was surrounded by his family. He relaxed once more against the headboard, trusting that his family would keep him safe. He could sense the others in the room and wished that he could see them. He knew they were there for him, trying to find who was doing this to him. Sam was so thankful for his family, his 'uncles' included. If it weren't for them, he'd have gone completely insane by now. For someone like Sam, to not be able to see or hear, to not be able to communicate was torture. And Sam knew without a doubt that as hard as it was for him, it was tenfold for his family. He wished that he could do something to help. He hated that he could do nothing but sit in bed, or at the table. He hated that he had to have a babysitter twenty four hours a day, that someone had to be burdened with making sure that the poor blind, deaf kid was taken care of. He had become so much more independent since he started college and now he depended on his family for his every need. A tender hand carding through his hair brought Sam out of his musings and he instinctively leaned into the touch. Touch and smell were all he had left, as taste really did him no good.

Sam knew how hard it was for his tough as nails family to be so touchy feely, but he also knew that they would do anything they had to to make sure that his needs were met. They had proven that over and over, first when he was in the clutches of Michael Wilcox, then a year later when Trenton Wilcox got ahold of him. The tenderness they showed him, were showing him now. The endless chick flick moments. Tears formed in Sam's eyes as he realized just how blessed he was. A soft touch to his cheek, his tears brushed away by loving fingers brought Sam's tears flowing even harder and soon he felt himself being pulled into strong arms. He knew by the scent of the skin his cheek lay against that Daniel held him and he wrapped his arms tightly around his brother's waist, sobbing so hard he found it difficult to breathe. He cried it out, all of his fear and frustrations until he had no more tears to shed. As he began to calm, he felt another hand begin to rub circles on his back and knew it was Dean. Dean had always used that action to calm his baby brother, and it still worked to this day.

Sam pulled away from Daniel, smiling in embarrassment. A playful ruffle of his hair let him know that all was okay. "T'nk's" he whispered. Another ruffle was his welcome.

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The man stood across the street from the motel, his golden hair blowing lightly with the soft breeze. His eyes remained glued to one particular room, knowing that the boy was inside. The room was protected, that much Marbas knew. The boy was protected too by his own personal troop of bodyguards who wouldn't let him out of their sight. Salt lines and protective symbols would keep him out of the room, but Marbas knew that he didn't need to be in the room. He had friends who could do the job for him, and the hunters wouldn't even know that they had been breached. Marbas chuckled to himself then lifted his cupped hands to his mouth, whispering softly into them before opening them up and watching as a small mosquito buzzed away in the direction of the Winchester's room. The insect reached the door just as it opened up and the three hunters who were helping the Winchesters emerged.

The mosquito flew, undetected, into the room and straight for the unsuspecting boy who was sat propped up against the headboard of his bed, flanked by his family. The insect landed on a bare arm and then it did what mosquitos do. A few moments later, the boy slapped at his arm, crushing the small body, but not before it's task was completed. The boy began to scratch at the forming welt until one brother pulled his hand away.

Across the street, hidden in the shadows, Marbas smiled. It was done and there was nothing anyone could do to stop the wheel that was now in motion.

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**Well, that's it for now. I'll get more up for you just as soon as I can.**

**Cindy.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey everyone! I have an update ready for you, a day earlier than I thought I would have it. Hope you like it.**

**Cindy.**

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**The Next Morning**

"You boys about ready to hit the road?" John queried as he entered the motel room, having loaded up his truck with his duffel bag and weapons.

"Just about, Dad," Daniel answered, stuffing a pair of jeans into his bag.

"I would like to get to Blue Earth by tomorrow, so let's get a move on," John instructed.

"Are the others ready?" Dean questioned as he came out of the bathroom, his toiletry bag in hand.

"Yep. They're over at the diner grabbing some coffee for the road. Is Sam's stuff ready?" John asked.

"Already in the Impala," Daniel said, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and heading for the door.

John watched as Dean followed Daniel out the door then he moved to the bed where Sam lay. He wasn't sure if Sam was sleeping, but if he was, it was time for him to wake up. They needed to keep moving until he could get his family to Minnesota, where Pastor Jim awaited them. John reached out and grasped Sam's shoulder, but drew his hand back when he felt unnatural heat radiating from his youngest son. He placed the back of his hand against Sam's forehead, his eyes narrowing with concern. Sam moaned softly and John moved his hand to the boy's cheek and patted it lightly, watching as Sam's eyes fluttered open. Sam moaned again, his brow creasing as if he were in pain. John moved his hand around to cup Sam's neck and gently lifted him up from his pillow, drawing in a quick breath when Sam cried out and grabbed his head with his hands, his eyes scrunched tightly closed. Sam rocked back and forth, not seeming to know that his father was even there. John looked up when the door to the motel room opened and called to his sons as they entered the room.

"Dean…get Joshua. Something's wrong! Daniel, get me a cool cloth…Sam's burning up!"

Dean rushed from the room, but not before shooting a concerned glance at his baby brother. Daniel was back from the bathroom in an instant, a wet, cool washcloth in his hands. He dropped down on the opposite side of the bed and handed the cloth to his father, his heart pounding as he listened to Sam's agonized cries. He took over holding Sam, laying him back against the pillows that John had hurriedly piled behind him. John tenderly tried to pull Sam's hands away from his head, not wanting to hurt the boy, but needing to do something about the fever that wracked his body. Finally, between the two oldest Winchesters, they were able to get Sam situated with the cloth on his forehead. Sam moaned pathetically and it was clear that he was in considerable pain.

"Where is your brother and Josh?" John cried as he eyed the door.

Just then, the door burst open and Dean rushed in, Joshua hurrying behind him. Caleb and Bobby soon followed, standing back from the bed and watching as Joshua pushed John out of the way and sat next to Sam. Sam was shaking as Joshua checked him over, the boy whimpering as he weakly thrashed on the bed.

"How long has he been like this?" Joshua queried, his gaze falling on John and Daniel.

"I don't know. I came over to wake him up and felt how hot he was. He started moaning then came awake and grabbed his head," John answered, his voice shaking with worry.

"What's wrong with him, Josh?" Dean asked from his position behind Daniel.

"I don't know. How long has he had this rash?" Joshua answered, his hands holding a moaning Sam's arm, fingers ghosting over a nasty rash that had formed on Sam's forearm.

"Sh*t! I have no idea. It's right where the mosquito bit him earlier," Daniel replied, his hand cupping Sam's cheek, thumb rubbing softly over his face.

"Mosquito? When?" Joshua queried.

"Um…yesterday. Right after that a**hole called," Daniel said.

"That's too soon for it to be from the mosquito," Joshua said under his breath.

"What? What could he get from a mosquito?" Dean asked.

"Well…West Nile virus for one. Encephalitis is another," Joshua answered.

"Are they bad?" Dean queried, eyeing his brother nervously.

"They can be fatal," Joshua replied, gazing at his friend apologetically.

Both Dean and Daniel paled at this and they jerked their attention to John, who seemed even paler than them. John dropped down on the other bed, leaning to the side so that he could see around Joshua. "How long does it take to show symptoms of one of those after being bitten?" he asked fearfully.

"It depends, but longer than a day," Joshua answered.

"So, what else could this be?" Caleb asked, his eyes looking more worried with each whimper that Sam emitted.

"I don't know. It could be a lot of things. If it had been longer since the mosquito bit him, I'd say it would most likely be Encephalitis. Headache, rash, fever…those are all symptoms, but…I just don't know."

"Should we take him to the hospital?" Daniel queried, his fingers brushing softly through Sam's sweat soaked hair.

"I don't know…sh*t, what's happening here?" John answered gruffly.

The phone suddenly rang, causing the men to jump from the unexpected noise. John's hand whipped out and grabbed the receiver up. "What!?" he cried into the phone.

"John, how's it going?" the voice on the other end queried.

"Who the hell is this?" John spat, knowing without a doubt that the person on the phone was the one responsible for Sam's suffering.

"You know, I 'm a bit hurt that you and your son don't remember me. You destroyed my life, I would think that you would at least have the courtesy to remember who I am," the voice hissed.

"I'm going to rip you apart, you son of a bitch! Tell me who you are!" John demanded, the other men in the room eyeing him cautiously.

John reached over and pushed the speaker phone button then placed the receiver back on the phone. "So, John…how is Sam doing? He feeling alright?" the man asked, an amused tone to his voice.

"You bastard…what have you done!?" Dean screamed, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides.

"Ah, you've put me on speaker. I assume that's Dean?" the man said.

"What have you done to my son?" John queried, his voice low and dangerous.

"Me? I haven't done anything. Oh, I may have requested a favor from a friend or two. Now, you didn't answer my question…how is our little Sammy doing?" the hateful voice queried.

"Don't you fucking call him that, you bastard! You had better call off your demons if you know what's good for you. Sam hasn't done anything to deserve this…" John started.

"David didn't deserve what he got either!" the man screamed, his fury evident.

"David? Who the hell is David!?" Dean cried.

"David was my son, but you killed him. Do you know who I am now?" the man questioned, his voice filled with rage, but also deep sadness.

"David? Wait…you're Randy Gregory?" Daniel asked, his brow furrowing.

"Give the man a medal! Yes, I'm Randy Gregory and you murdered my son…now, you are paying the price," Randy replied.

John looked around at the other men in the room before he turned his eyes onto his youngest. Sam looked even worse than he did just a few moments ago and his whimpers were sounding even more pathetic. His hands were back up to his head, his fingers practically digging into his skin. Joshua was doing everything he could under the circumstances, but Sam was obviously in great pain and he was sweating badly, meaning his fever was getting worse. John turned back around, his eyes narrowed in anger.

"Why are you doing this to Sam? He wasn't even there. He has nothing to do with this," John hissed.

"How old is little Sammy, John?"

"What? What does that have to do with anything?" Daniel queried.

"I want you to tell me how old Sammy is. Is that a difficult task, or what?"

"He's nineteen, you bastard. He's just a kid!" Dean spat, his gaze moving to his stricken brother.

"Hmmmm…nineteen. You see, David was just nineteen when you killed him. Do you see where I'm going with this? He was nineteen…innocent. He didn't ask for what happened to him," the man growled.

"No, he didn't ask to be bitten by a werewolf, but he was. Once he tasted human blood though, he was no longer your son. Randy, look…I understand, but hurting Sam is not going to bring David back…" John tried to reason, but the man was beyond that.

"I know I can't bring my son back, you fucking idiot! I can, however make you suffer like I've been suffering. You took my nineteen year old, innocent son from me, and now I will take yours from you. You and your other sons will have to live the rest of your lives knowing that Sam suffered and died because of what you did."

John lowered his head to his chest and shook it slowly. This was an impossible situation. He could understand how Randy Gregory felt, but he had to protect his boy and if that meant finding this man and killing him, then that is exactly what he would do. Now that he knew who was responsible, he would do everything he could to find him and stop him before he could do anymore damage to his son.

"You need to call off your demon," John warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Or what, John? What are you going to do? You don't know how to find me," Randy said with a slight chuckle.

"But you found us. How did you do that?" Daniel questioned, his hand moving comfortingly over Sam's arm.

"I'm a very rich man. It took a lot of time and money, but I found you. The men I hired followed you and kept me apprised of your activities. You guys keep very busy. Anyway, imagine my reaction when I was notified that you had gone to Palo Alto to see someone at Stanford University. When I found out that you had another son, I knew then what I had to do. I knew how to punish you in the worst possible way. You can't stop it, John. None of you can stop what is happening…what is going to happen. Sammy is going to die."

"The only one who is going to die is you," John hissed.

A deep laugh sounded and then the line went dead. John stood and stomped across the room, his hand shooting out sweeping the containers from their dinner the previous night off the table. He continued his rampage until the anguished cries of his youngest son reached his ears. He hurried to Sam's bed, his eyes wide as Joshua and Daniel attempted to comfort the boy.

"He's getting worse, John. We have to get him some help," Joshua said urgently.

"There's nothing that any hospital can do for him, Josh. I'm thinking that mosquito was sent by whatever demon Randy Gregory summoned. It infected Sam and no doctor will be able to cure him. I don't know what to do, but I'm sure that no medicine will work," John said sadly as he reached down to card his fingers through Sam's sweaty hair.

"We have to do something, Dad! We can't just let Sam suffer!" Dean cried.

John lowered his eyes, feeling the same panic his son felt. He lifted them and looked at Bobby. "Bobby, please tell me that there is one of those doctors who know about hunters somewhere near here."

"Well, there is one, but he's about two and half hours away. I don't know if it would be wise to make Sam travel right now though, Johnny," Bobby answered.

"Call him, Bobby. Please. I can't just let Sam lay here and suffer. Maybe Sam can't be cured, but I have to at least try," John pled.

"Okay, Johnny. I'll call him."

John turned to Dean and Daniel. "Get the backseat of the Impala ready with blankets and pillows. Make it as comfortable as you can for Sammy. We need to be ready to go in ten minutes."

Dean and Daniel nodded and immediately went to work. John next turned to Caleb. "Caleb, can you make sure that all of our vehicles are protected from demon attack. I don't want any surprises while we're on the road," he queried of his friend.

"I'm on it, John," Caleb replied, then left the room.

"Josh, I'll have you ride with Dean and Sam, just in case. You have more medical training than any of us. Danny can ride with Caleb or Bobby. I'll go first…Dean will follow me, then Caleb and Bobby can bring up the rear."

Joshua nodded then turned his attention back to Sam. He stood and went to the bathroom, coming out a few moments later with a new washcloth. He wiped the cool cloth over Sam's face, the boy flinching at the touch. John went to the door and leant over, picking up Dean's duffel bag. He withdrew the first aid kit and brought it to the bed. He opened it and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol 3. He shook out two pills into his palm then went to the bathroom to fill a glass with water. He returned and with Joshua's help, he lifted Sam's shoulders from the bed and pushed the two pills into the moaning boys mouth. He then put the glass to Sam's lips and encouraged him to swallow the pills down by tenderly caressing his throat. Sam took a few sips before turning away, his cries and whimpers breaking John's heart.

The door to the room opened and John looked up to see his two other boys enter, their eyes immediately falling on their stricken brother. "The car's ready, Dad," Daniel said.

"Great…load up the rest of your stuff. Daniel, you'll ride with Caleb or Bobby because I need Josh to ride with Sam…"

"No, Dad…I need to be with Sammy," Daniel protested.

"Danny…Josh has medical training, he needs to…"

"I understand, Dad, but I'm riding with them too. I'll ride in the back with Sammy. He's going to need the contact anyway. He's got to be terrified," Daniel pled, not caring that John did not like being interrupted nor questioned.

John stared at his eldest son incredulously for a moment, but then he shook his head, a small smile playing over his lips. He couldn't fault his son for wanting to be near his baby brother. Hell, John wanted to be in that car too. "Okay, you can ride with Sam," he said.

Daniel smiled then bent over and picked up Dean's duffel bag. He walked over to John and took the first aid kit that the older hunter held out for him, stuffing it into the bag before he turned and walked out the door. Bobby entered the room a few moments later.

"Jack will be waiting for us. I explained what has happened. He's not too sure what he can do with it being a demon inflicted illness, but he said that at the very least he can maybe find out just what we're dealing with. He said to make Sam as comfortable as possible, give him some Tylenol…"

"Already gave him some. Hopefully it'll help him sleep if it doesn't help with anything else."

Bobby nodded and smiled sadly at the suffering boy in the bed. "Johnny, we'll figure out how to save him," he said.

"I know, Bobby. It's just hard seeing him like this. When I find that son of a bitch…I won't hesitate in killing him. He's gone beyond where I can consider him human now," John answered.

"I know, John. We can't leave him alive. I'm afraid if we did, he'd continue to be a problem," Bobby said.

John nodded as he stood. He glanced at the door when Daniel stepped back into the room and motioned for he and Dean to help him. Together, the three Winchester men gently lifted Sam from the bed then John slid his arms beneath Sam's knees and back and carried him from the room to the waiting Impala. Bobby and Joshua did a sweep of the room then followed the Winchesters out. Daniel slid into the back seat of the Impala then helped John guide the limp body of his brother in beside him. He rested Sam's head in his lap, his fingers brushing over his forehead, comforting the youngest hunter. John gave his boys one last look before slamming the door shut and moving to his truck. Dean and Joshua climbed into the front seat of the car, the rumble of the engine sounding when Dean turned the key. Caleb took to his SUV and Bobby to his truck and soon the caravan of hunters was leaving the parking lot of their latest motel, unaware of the eyes that watched from across the street.

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**So, that's it for now. Not sure when I will have the next one up. I'm pretty busy this week. I'll try to get it up soon. Take care.**

**Cindy.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! Wow, I am really catching it for being so mean to Sammy. Come on, it's not like it isn't expected. LOL I have the next chapter for you. Now, just to let you know, I do know what I'm talking about when I write about some of what Sam is going through. The summer before my senior year in highschool, I was diagnosed with encephalitis from an infected bug bite. I have never felt pain like that before, nor have I since. I have given birth, and as painful as that was, I knew it was only temporary and that I would have a wonderful gift at the end. With the headache I had that summer, I truly thought that I was going to die. At times I wanted to. Every movement made my head feel like it was literally splitting open. I was babysitting an eight month old baby that summer, and let me tell you, running after a baby when you are in that condition is not in the least bit fun. So, I hope I have conveyed that pain well enough in this chapter. So, here you go.**

**Cindy.**

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Sam didn't know where he was, but he did know that he hurt. He hurt bad. His head felt like it would explode at any moment and he was pretty sure he would welcome it because anything would be better than this pain. He was, for the moment, thankful for the loss of his sight and hearing. He was pretty darned sure that any light that penetrated his eyes and any sound would push him right over the edge of insanity. The slightest movement sent shocking waves of agony through his head and the fact that it appeared as though he was in a moving car only added to the torture. His stomach roiled as the pain intensified and he swallowed hard against the sickness that was trying to make its way up his throat. If he was in Dean's car it would not be a good idea to soil it. He felt rather than heard the moan that escaped him and he thought he could feel a comforting touch to his cheek, but the pain was so overwhelming that it was the only thing his muddled mind could concentrate on. He felt so hot, like he was burning up from the inside and had a fleeting thought that he must really be sick.

Sam felt himself arch up from where he lay as the pain spiked and he knew now that he had felt a touch to his cheek because now something was wrapping around his body, pulling him in to a firm, warm surface. Something, a hand he absently thought, cupped the back of his head, a light touch playing over his cheekbone. Someone held him, he didn't know who, and he grabbed hold of whomever, anchoring himself so that he wouldn't be lost to the pain. Wave after horrifying wave of sheer agony washed over him, his head throbbing to the beat of his heart, his stomach churning like it never had before. He screamed out, silent to his ears, as the movement of the car he was sure he was in came to a sudden stop. He felt himself being lifted by several hands, and he felt some relief as cool air danced over his heated, sweaty skin. Suddenly, he felt what he thought must be grass tickling at his back where his tee shirt had ridden up, then he was turned to his side, just in time as it was as the sickness that had been threatening came spewing forth, his body wracked with painful spasms as the meager contents of his stomach were dispelled. Each heave brought more agony to his head, and Sam was pretty sure that he couldn't take much more. The spasms slowly stopped, leaving Sam breathless and gasping for air.

At this moment, all Sam could think about was the pain and that he just wanted it to stop. All of it. The pain in his head, the pain in his heart, the pain in his soul. He would take death over this pain. He had managed to push the pain of losing his sweet Alisa to the back of his head, his studies keeping his mind busy, but with the recent events, he had all the time in the world to think about what he had lost. He suddenly welcomed the pain in his head, because it gave him something else other than his grief to think about. He felt himself being gently pulled up against the same warm surface, one of his brothers he was sure, and felt fingers carding through his hair. It eased the pain, just a bit, but the small amount of relief was welcome. He felt darkness moving in around him and he embraced it with open arms. He allowed the darkness to overtake him as he sunk in to sweet oblivion, his body rocking softly back and forth with the one who held him.

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Daniel held Sam, his fingers softly brushing over his cheek. The moans and whimpers coming from his brother broke his heart as the helplessness he felt consumed him. How could he or anyone else help Sam? His father was certain no medicine would help, the illness ravaging Sam's body being of a demonic nature. He wasn't even sure if Sam could feel him, could tell that he was being comforted. He prayed that Sam knew, that the pain wasn't so bad that he couldn't feel the soft touches meant to ease his suffering. The kid was bathed in sweat, his clothes clinging to his thin body and Daniel cringed at the heat emanating from him. He looked up and saw Dean's worried eyes peering at him from the rear view mirror and he gave a slight shake of his head, unable to muster any more than that small gesture. Dean's eyes moved back ahead to the road before once more gazing at his brothers in the back seat, this time his sights on Sam.

Joshua was turned in his seat, watching the eldest and the youngest siblings, deep lines of concern and worry etched into his forehead. Sam moaned as his body literally writhed on the bench seat, Daniel's arms wrapped protectively around him. Suddenly, Sam arched up from the seat, an agonized scream tearing from his lips. His hands grabbed at Daniel's arms, his face paling to almost white. Dean cried out in surprise before yanking the Impala towards the edge of the road, slamming on the brakes to stop the car.

"He's gonna be sick I think!" Daniel yelled as he pulled Sam to his chest, his right hand cupping the back of brother's head, thumb gently caressing his cheek.

"Let's get him out. Maybe the fresh air will help!" Joshua cried as he wrenched his car door open, jumping from the vehicle before it had even come to a complete stop.

Dean was out in a heartbeat and both backdoors were pulled open, all three men getting firm, but gentle grips on the stricken member of their family. They eased Sam out of the car, Daniel continuing to cradle him in his arms as they made their way to the grassy edge of the road. The three men lowered Sam to the grass then turned him to his side. Sam immediately started to heave, the gutwrenching sounds of his vomiting tearing through the men as they sat helplessly, witnessing the horrible ordeal. Pathetic, painfilled cries filled the short spaces of time in between heaves and it was all the brothers could do to keep from sobbing themselves. They knew that this was happening because of something they had done. That Sam was suffering the consequences of a hunt that he hadn't even been a part of. They relaxed ever so slightly when Sam's heaving tapered off, but they could still see the lines of pain that crossed over Sam's sweaty brow. Daniel rocked Sam gently, the way he used to when Sam was a small child and not feeling well. Sam's body suddenly going limp scared the living hell right out of the brothers until Joshua confirmed that he had just passed out and was breathing fine.

"At least he isn't in pain anymore," Dean whispered, his eyes never leaving Sam's suddenly lax face. "At least, I hope he isn't."

Daniel nodded, unable to speak at the moment. He was pretty sure that if he attempted speech he would break out crying and wouldn't be able to stop. He looked up when he realized that the others had stopped and were now surrounding them. John came running from the opposite direction that Bobby and Caleb had come from, having had to backtrack to where they were. He dropped down beside Dean, his hand immediately reaching for Sam's hot hand.

"What the hell happened?" he questioned, a note of panic in his voice.

"He just got so much worse all of a sudden," Daniel explained. "My God, his scream…I'm gonna have nightmares."

"Is he okay? He's breathing and everything isn't he?" Caleb asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"Yeah…he's breathing. Hearts beating a bit fast, but under the circumstances, I'd say that's to be expected," Joshua answered. "I think he just finally passed out from the pain and fever."

"Shit…we better get him back in the car. We need to get him to the doc," Bobby said, moving closer to the huddled men.

"Yeah…not sure if he can do anything for him though," Dean said softly, his hand lying protectively on Sam's chest.

"Can't hurt. Besides, we're kind of sitting ducks out here," Joshua said as he began to get to his feet.

The men all helped Daniel get Sam up from the ground and soon both were settled once more in the backseat of the Impala. Dean and Joshua climbed in the front, and once the other men were in their vehicles, the caravan was once more on the road, the men even more determined to reach their destination, if for no other reason than to get Sam into a comfortable bed rather than the cramped backseat of Dean's car.

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The line of vehicles finally pulled up to the small clinic and house where Dr. Frank Jenks lived and the weary men exited their cars, moving immediately to the Impala to help with Sam. Although the trip had taken just four hours, it was the longest any of the men could remember. Their worry made the trip seem as if it took an eternity. A tall, older looking man with wavy white hair came out the door and strolled directly up to Bobby, his hand held out to the grizzled hunter.

"Bobby, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it. What took so long?" Frank queried of his friend.

"We had to stop a few times for Sam. He's not doing well at all, Frank," Bobby answered worriedly.

"Well, lets get the kid inside so I can take a look at him," the doctor replied.

Sam was carefully pulled from the car, his body still save for the shivers that ran through him. John cradled Sam in his arms and followed Dr. Jenks to the clinic, shifting the boy when he whimpered in discomfort. The other men followed John and watched as he gently laid Sam down on an examination table, their eyes falling on the doctor as he began his examination. Dr. Jenks looked up at the expectant faces and smiled softly.

"This is going to take awhile. Why don't you go get something to eat. I'll let you know once I'm finished," he said quietly.

"I'm not leaving my brother," Dean said as he moved up to the table that held Sam.

"Dean, the doc's right. I'll stay with Sammy while you go eat. You and Daniel," John said, his eyes moving to Daniel as he too moved toward the table.

"Dad…" Dean began.

"Just…go eat. When you're done, you can come back and then I'll eat. I'll be right here. Sammy won't be alone," John said.

Dean and Daniel didn't move for a moment, torn between staying with their brother and following their father's orders. Finally, knowing that Sam would be watched over, they reluctantly made their way to the attached house where the other hunters were headed, Dean sparing one last glance over his shoulder before he disappeared into the house. John watched his sons go then turned back to Sam. He helped Dr. Jenks remove Sam's tee shirt then stood back as the doctor began his exam, the doctors brows furrowing at the heat that rolled off the stricken young man. Dr. Jenks looked up at John, his eyes filled with concern.

"So, this is the work of a demon?" he asked, his fingers moving tenderly over Sam's arm.

"Yes. He's become the target of a man whose son had been turned by a werewolf. We killed the boy and now his father has summoned demons to curse Sammy," John answered.

"I'm not sure if medicine will help. First I need to determine exactly what is going on. From what Bobby told me on the phone, it sounds like encephalitis and after I do a blood test, I will know for sure. Just from what I can see, I'd say it is encephalitis. But…" the doctor explained, his voice trailing off nervously.

"But what?" John asked.

"If we can't treat the disease, it can progress to the point where it can be fatal. Bobby said that Sam was bitten yesterday by a mosquito and that this morning he was ill. That speed of progression is unheard of."

"What's going to happen to Sam if treatment doesn't work," John queried, his gaze falling to his son's face as the boy moaned softly.

"He already has the fever and headache, according to Bobby. Maybe you can fill me in on any other symptoms he may have?"

"Uh…vomiting…he's extremely tired and he's so weak. In fact, he has barely moved since the last time we stopped on the road."

Dr. Jenks nodded sadly as he moved around the table, examining his young patient. "Those are all signs of the disease. Unfortunately, the muscle weakness and lack of movement are signs of the more advanced form. We could see seizures and paralysis…"

"What!? Paralysis?" John cried, his face losing all color.

Dr. Jenks looked upon the distraught father with sadness and compassion. He couldn't imagine what the man was feeling, seeing his youngest son suffering so badly and by the looks of it, only worse suffering coming very soon. "I'm sorry, John. If we can't treat it, that is the path it will take before Sam succumbs…"

"Oh my God…" a voice sounded from across the room, pulling both men's attention to the door leading to the doctors house.

Dean and Daniel stood in the doorway, their eyes wide with fear. "Dad?" Daniel whispered brokenly.

"Dean…Danny, he'll be okay. We'll stop this before it gets that far," John promised, his heart breaking at the devastation he witnessed on his son's faces.

"How the hell can we stop it? We know who is doing this, but we have no idea where he is or how to stop him!" Dean spat as he moved quickly across the room to his brother's side.

"We'll find him, Dean."

"You don't know that, Dad! We didn't find Michael Wilcox until he nearly raped and killed Sammy. We didn't find Trenton Wilcox, but we let him get Sammy! We've failed Sam over and over! What makes you think it'll be any different this time?" Dean cried.

"Dean…stop it! Now! This isn't helping," Daniel warned.

Dean glared at Daniel before he physically deflated. He scrubbed his hand over his face then reached out to grasp Sam's hand. "Sorry…I…this is just so messed up," he whispered tiredly.

"I know, Dean. I promise, as soon as the doc has some answers Bobby, Caleb, Joshua and I will be out there looking for this bastard. We'll make him fix Sammy," John said.

"Okay, Dad. Okay…"

"Okay guys, I need to get some blood from Sam then I'll get an IV in him, get some fluids and medicine going. Hopefully, we can get the kid some relief," Dr. Jenks said.

The Winchesters watched as the doctor drew blood from Sam and then as he hooked him up to an IV line. The doctor took the vials of blood and placed them in a cooler before returning to Sam's side. He placed a thermometer in Sam's ear and waited for it to beep then looked at the readout. He frowned as he read the results.

"What is it, doc?" Dean queried.

"His temp is 103.8. That's getting close to dangerously high," Frank answered.

"Shit…can you do something?" John asked.

"I can add something to his IV. If that doesn't work, or if his temp goes higher, we'll need to ice him to try to get the temp down."

"Whatever you can do, Frank. Please…just help him," Daniel pled.

Frank nodded and walked to a cupboard, removing a vial of clear liquid. He came back to the table and inserted a needle into the vial, pulling back the plunger on the syringe, filling the tube with the fluid. He inserted the needle into the IV port and injected the fluid into the IV line.

"Let's get Sam into a more comfortable bed. We'll get him stripped down to his underwear to try to cool him as much as possible. Daniel, go to the kitchen and get a bowl and fill it with ice water. There are washcloths in the bathroom just down the hall. We need to get this temp down and I'm not certain the fever reducer will help," Frank instructed.

Daniel rushed from the room while John and Dean helped Dr. Jenks lift Sam from the examination table. They moved him to a curtained area where a hospital bed sat and placed him into the bed. John and Dean then worked on removing Sam's sleep pants, leaving the boy in just his boxers. Daniel returned with the water and washcloths and sat on the edge of the bed, immediately beginning to wipe a cloth over Sam's chest and arms. Dean took the other cloth and wiped it over Sam's face. John watched as his sons took care of their baby brother, his heart swelling with love and pride. Dr. Jenks had moved away and John turned to see what he was doing. Curious, he moved to the doctors side as the older man began to work with a vial of Sam's blood.

"What're you doing?" John asked.

"I'm preparing to test Sam's sample. I have a small lab right here. With the clientele I treat, I can't just be sending lab work to the hospital in town," Frank replied.

John nodded, watching as the man expertly prepared the blood for testing. He looked up as Bobby, Caleb and Joshua entered the room, their eyes moving over the room until they found the three brothers in the corner. John walked up to the three, his face solemn.

"How's the kid?" Caleb queried with a worried look.

"Not good. Frank says he could have seizures and even paralysis. He could die from this if treatment doesn't work. His temp is almost at 104," John answered, his gaze moving over his shoulder to where his sons continued to cool Sam down.

"Son of a bitch…" Bobby whispered.

"I know. We need to get out there and find this bastard," John seethed through clenched teeth.

"Well, let's hit it then. My guess is the asshole is probably near. Maybe we'll get lucky," Bobby stated, already heading for the door.

John nodded then moved over to where his sons were. He whispered to them and the two nodded before returning their attention back to Sam. John then let Frank know that he and the others were leaving and to call if anything happened. Frank agreed then went back to his work. John and the others left the clinic, all four uneasy about leaving the three youngest hunters on their own. They piled into Caleb's SUV and tore off down the road, intent on finding the man responsible for Sam's suffering.

Back at the clinic, Dean and Daniel continued their ministrations, cooling Sam's body as best as they could with the ice water and washcloths. Sam's murmurs and moans tore at the brother's heartstrings, but his lack of movement worried them even more. The conversation they had overheard between Frank and John weighed heavily on their minds, the thought of Sam being paralyzed terrifying them. They prayed that neither the seizures nor the paralysis would become reality, having already witnessed Sam having seizures. Neither one was ready to ever witness that again. They looked up as the doctor strode up to the bed, his hand resting comfortingly on Daniel's shoulder.

"I've got the test running. We should know in a little bit what we're dealing with, but I'm pretty sure it's a very serious case of encephalitis. Thankfully, Sam is pretty out of it. I'm sure he's still in pain, but he probably can't really comprehend what is happening. I'd like to do some painful stimuli tests, just to see if Sam still has feeling in his extremities," Frank said.

Dean and Daniel looked at each other then both nodded. Frank moved to Sam's feet then ran a blunt, letter opener looking instrument up the bottom of Sam's foot. Sam barely flinched at the pressure. Frank moved to the other foot and received the same results. He then moved to Sam's side and lifted his right hand. He took a metal instrument that resembled a toothpick and poked Sam's fingertips. Sam flinched slightly and both of his brothers heaved sighs of relief. Frank moved around the bed and repeated the process on Sam's left hand, the boy flinching again.

Frank smiled as he set Sam's hand back on the bed, patting the hand lightly. "Well, he does have feeling, but it seems to be reduced. I think for the most part, Sam is just totally exhausted from this illness. Also, other patients I have had with this disease say that the slightest movement causes them agonizing pain. His body is protecting itself as best as it can."

"How soon will we know if the medicine is working?" Daniel asked, resuming his task of cooling Sam's chest and arms.

"It'll be awhile. Hopefully the pain reliever will give him some comfort," Frank replied.

Dean was just about to speak when Sam cried out and his body arched up off of the bed, his fingers digging into the sheets beneath him. He began to shake, a deep keening rumbling up from his throat. His body thrashed as his panicked brothers threw themselves at him, wrapping their arms around his upper and lower body to prevent him from hurting himself.

"Son of a bitch!! Help him, doc!" Dean screamed, his arms tight around Sam's hips.

Frank ran to the cupboard and returned a few moments later with a filled syringe. He stuck the needle directly into Sam's arm, just below where Daniel held him, and plunged the fluid into his bloodstream. Sam continued to convulse, his head slamming over and over into the pillow on the bed. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Sam's seizure began to taper off until he collapsed back to the bed, his body trembling, sweat pouring off of him in buckets.

Daniel leaned over Sam, resting his head on the boy's chest. He straightened then sat back on the edge of the bed. He took Sam's hand, the whimpers coming from his brother cutting deep into his soul. "Sammy…we're here. Please know that we're here," he said as he caressed Sam's palm with his thumb.

He reached up to cup Sam's cheek, smiling as the boy leaned into his touch. Dean moved up to Sam's side on the opposite side of the bed, his gaze meeting his older brothers.

"Son of a bitch. I was hoping never to see Sam like that again after last year. Shit, Danny…" he breathed out, his hand rubbing up and down Sam's arm.

Dr. Jenks moved beside Daniel, the eldest Winchester sibling moving slightly to allow the doctor room. The doctor placed his stethoscope on Sam's chest, listening intently. He moved the instrument around, his head cocking as he listened. Finally, he pulled the stethoscope away, pulling the earpieces out of his ears.

"Well, his heart is racing some, but after just suffering a seizure, that's to be expected. We need to get his temp down. I'm not sure if the seizure was from his fever or if it's from the infection. Encephalitis is an infection of the brain and if it becomes too serious, that's when seizures can occur. It's also what can cause the paralysis. I really hate to do this, but I think we need to ice Sam's body down," Frank said apologetically.

Dean and Daniel glanced nervously at each other then turned back to the doctor. "What do we need to do?" Dean asked.

"I think the best way would be to fill the tub with cool water, place Sam in, then dump some bags of ice in with him. It's not going to be very enjoyable for the kid, but we need to get that fever down," Frank replied.

Dean rushed from the room, intent on following the doctor's instructions. Dr. Jenks and Daniel got Sam sat up, then Daniel slid his arms around Sam's back and under his knees. He picked Sam up, maneuvering his head until it rested in the crook of his neck. He started across the room, surprised at how light Sam felt. The kid had lost significant weight since this whole nightmare had started. Daniel followed Frank to the bathroom, carrying Sam in when Dean moved aside. Dean helped Daniel lower Sam into the cool water, the young man crying out when his over heated body hit the water.

"Shhh…it's okay, Sammy," Daniel whispered, wishing that Sam could hear him.

"Okay, Dean, there's a freezer in the garage. There are a few bags of ice in there," Frank said, following the young hunter with his eyes as Dean rushed from the room.

Dean returned a few minutes later, the bags of ice in hand. He handed one bag to Frank then ripped the top of his bag open. He approached the tub, and dumped the ice into the water. Sam gasped as the ice touched him, but quieted when Daniel cupped the nape of his neck. Frank emptied his bag of ice into the tub then moved back from the edge.

"You boys keep an eye on him. I'm going to check on the blood test," Frank said.

Dean and Daniel nodded, their attention fully on their baby brother. Daniel found a cup on the sink edge and dipped it into the water, pouring cupful after cupful over Sam's chest, the boy whimpering as his body shivered uncontrollably. Dean carded his hand through Sam's wet hair, his fingers massaging gently into his scalp. He moved forward when Sam's eyes opened and flitted around the room. Dean kneeled on the floor, his hand moving to Sam's cheek. Sam's eyes found his face, and Dean could swear he could see there was something in those eyes. Not the vacant stare that had become the norm of late.

"Sammy, can you see me?" he asked, moving his mouth so that if Sam could see, he would be able to possibly read his lips.

Dean smiled brightly when Sam weakly nodded.

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**Well? I just couldn't leave Sam blind any longer. I was causing great distress to some of my readers, so I decided to be nice for a change and give Sam a break. LOL I hope you liked that chapter and will let me know either way. Take care.**

**Cindy.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello to you all! I have a short chapter for you. It is overflowing with angst. I hope you all enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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John and Bobby traveled the dirt road together in the Impala, Caleb and Joshua following close behind in Caleb's SUV. Bobby cast a quick glance to his friend behind the wheel, worried as he knew where John's mind was. John was physically there with him, but mentally and emotionally he was back at the clinic with his boys. And really, who was Bobby kidding? That's where his mind was too and he was sure he could say the same for Caleb and Joshua. How could they not be thinking of the Winchester brothers? Especially Sam. Sam wasn't just the heart of the Winchesters. He was the heart of their whole rag tag group. He was the one who kept them all grounded. He was the last thread of innocence in their otherwise dark existence.

"Johnny…if you want to go back to the boys…" Bobby started.

"No…I need to find Randy Gregory. I can't let Sammy down again," John replied, his eyes never leaving the road.

"You've never let him down, Johnny…"

"Yes…I have, Bobby. Michael Wilcox never would have entered our lives if it weren't for me. I pushed Sam out that door and nearly lost him to a madman. Then Trenton Wilcox came along," John said, his voice taking on a far off tone.

"John…you couldn't have known any of that would happen," Bobby said.

"That's beside the point. If I hadn't said the things I said to Sammy…if I hadn't told him he was a disappointment to me, he never would have run away and he never would have come in contact with Michael Wilcox and subsequently Trenton Wilcox."

"But, you really don't know that. Not for sure. Maybe he wouldn't have come in contact when he did, but who's to say he wouldn't have eventually?"

"Bobby, I don't believe Sam was destined to meet either of them, if that's what you're implying."

"I don't know, John. I just know that sometimes bad things happen. It wasn't your fault, just like now. What's happening now isn't your fault."

"It is my fault. There's no one else to blame here, Bobby."

"How about that psycho Randy Gregory?"

"We weren't supposed to take that job, Bobby."

"What?"

"We were supposed to be in Palo Alto…with Sam. We'd made plans to spend a week with him, but then Fritz called…said there was a possible werewolf in Colorado. Daniel and Dean didn't want to take the job. They said to call you. They said you were the closest. But…I…I insisted. I told them that we would go see Sam just as soon as the hunt was done."

"Johnny…"

"No, Bobby. You could have taken that job…or Caleb…or Joshua. I wouldn't listen…not even when I heard the disappointment in Sam's voice. And the kicker? Once that job was done, there was another to take its place. Then another and another. It didn't take me long to put the hunt ahead of Sammy again. I swore that my boys would always come first after what happened. I broke that promise less than a year after making it," John said, disgust in his voice.

Bobby just stared at his friend. He'd had no idea the amount of guilt John carried with him. He had no words to say to make John feel better. He knew it would do no good. If there was one thing you could bank on with the Winchesters, it was the fact that they held onto their guilt like it was a lifeline. Once one of them got it into their heads that they were to blame for something, there was no convincing them that it wasn't true. Sam still carried the guilt of his girlfriend's death. He had come a long way towards dealing with it, but the guilt was still there. It would always be there. You could see it in his eyes. A sad, haunted look that one should never see in someone so young. The one time Bobby had visited Sam at Stanford, he'd seen it. It had broken his heart. John's voice broke through Bobby's thoughts and he blinked in surprise.

"What if we can't find Randy Gregory in time, Bobby? What if this time, we can't save my baby? We can't lose him…we won't survive."

"We won't lose him, Johnny. Randy Gregory will not take him from you or the boys. I promise you. I won't let him," Bobby said.

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"_Sammy, can you see me?" Dean asked, moving his mouth so that if Sam **could** see, he would be able to possibly read his lips._

_Dean smiled brightly when Sam weakly nodded._

Daniel stared wide eyed as Sam nodded. He turned his gaze to his younger brother before turning back to Sam. Sam slowly turned his eyes until they rested on his eldest brother. A small, weak smile played over Sam's lips. Daniel reached out and ran his fingers softly over Sam's cheek, the youngest sibling turning his face into the comforting touch. Dean moved his hand up to Sam's forehead, worried about the heat that still radiated from his brother. Sam gazed up at him, his eyes bloodshot and tired looking. He suddenly squeezed his eyes shut, crying out softly, his brow furrowing in pain. Dean trailed his hand through Sam's wet hair, letting it come to rest at the back of his head, his fingers gently massaging his scalp. Dean turned his head when he heard Frank enter the bathroom.

"He can see, doc. I don't know how, but he can see," Dean said softly.

"What? When?" Frank asked, his eyes moving to Sam.

"When we started pouring cold water over him, he came around and he…he looked at me. He looked at me and there was something there," Dean explained.

"That's wonderful boys, but I don't want you to get a false sense of relief," Frank said.

"Why not?" Daniel queried, his attention moving back to Sam when the young man started to whimper softly.

Frank moved closer to the tub, his eyes moving over the stricken boy. "The blindness and deafness were from a different source than the illness. Even if he regains his sight and hearing, it doesn't mean that he's going to recover his health."

"He's going to recover, doc," Dean said with conviction.

"He has encephalitis, Dean. I have never seen such an aggressive form. If I didn't know the story behind this, I would think that Sam had been sick with this for several days, untreated."

Daniel paled at the doctor's words. "What does that mean, Frank?"

"It means that if this were a normal case of the illness, it would be too late for Sam."

Dean and Daniel stared at Frank, unable to speak for a moment. It was Dean who spoke first.

"This isn't a normal case though. Sam's not going to die."

"Dean…"

"No! Son of a bitch! Don't you dare say that he is going to die! My Sammy is too strong to let some demon bastard bring him down! He's destined for something great!"

Daniel collapsed onto the tiled floor, tears welling in his eyes. "Dean…" he whispered softly.

"He's not going to die, Danny. He's not."

"I know that, Dean. Just…please…I can't…" Daniel's tears welled over, trailing down his cheeks, his eyes moving to Sam, who still lay whimpering in the tub.

Dean moved to his brother's side, his eyes filled with remorse. "I'm sorry, Danny. God, when is this going to end?"

Daniel shook his head. "Let's just get Sam out of this tub and back to bed," he said tiredly.

The brothers stood and carefully lifted Sam out of the tub then carried him to his bed. Frank hooked his IV back up then began an examination. Sam moaned pathetically, his head rolling on his pillow. Daniel took Sam's hand, squeezing gently as he attempted to comfort the ill young man. Sam opened his eyes, squinting at the light in the room. Dean stepped to the wall and dimmed the lights then moved back to the side of the bed. He smiled down at Sam, keeping his fears carefully hidden. Sam smiled weakly then his eyes slowly closed, his breathing evening out as he fell off to sleep. His brothers watched him, happy for his apparent relief, as fleeting as it probably was.

Dean glanced once more at Daniel then moved to the window in the wall next to Sam's bed. He gazed out into the darkening evening, his eyes moving over the trees beyond the drive. Suddenly, something in the trees caught his eye. He moved his face closer to the window, his nose pressed almost to the glass.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean cried as he quickly moved toward the door.

"Dean! What the hell is going on?" Daniel cried from beside Sam's bed.

"Someone is out there…watching!" Dean replied, yanking the door open and running outside.

"Dean!" Daniel shouted, already running after his brother. "Stay with Sam!" he called back to Frank before he too disappeared out the door.

Frank watched as Daniel disappeared then he moved closer to Sam's bed. He inched to a cabinet near the bed, opening the drawer and withdrawing a gun he had hidden there. The clinic and house were protected from any demon invasion, but if their visitor was of the human persuasion, he had that covered too. Frank didn't know this boy who had been placed in his care, but he vowed to protect him with his life if the need presented itself.

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**That's it for now. Reviews are love.**

**Cindy. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey folks! I'm back with the next chapter. Thanks to all of you still reading. I appreciate it so much.**

**Cindy.**

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Daniel ran out the door, frantically looking from side to side in search of his younger brother. Dean was nowhere to be seen. "Son of a bitch, Dean!" he hissed as he ran to John's truck.

Daniel flung the passenger door of the truck open and reached deep under the seat, his fingers curling around the grip of a hidden pistol. He pulled the gun from its hiding place then slammed the door to the truck shut. He took off to the side of the clinic that the window Dean had been peering through was, intent on finding not only his brother, but whomever Dean had seen hiding in the trees. Daniel silently ran the length of the treeline, his eyes squinting into the darkness beyond the trees. A rustling of leaves and underbrush caught Daniel's attention and he moved into the trees, his weapon at the ready for any surprise that may await him. He broke through into a small clearing and pulled in quick breath when he spied Dean pressed against a tree trunk, held there by an invisible force and a tall figure with light colored hair standing about ten feet away from the restrained young man. The man's back was turned to Daniel and he apparently hadn't heard the hunter's entrance into the clearing.

Daniel shook his head slightly when Dean's eyes landed on him and Dean instantly turned his eyes away, reverting back to watching the man before him. Daniel slunk across the clearing, his years of training with his father allowing him to make the trek in silence. He knew without a doubt that the man holding his brother against the tree was the demon responsible for Sam's current suffering and he didn't hesitate in pulling the trigger of his pistol, the slug from the weapon tearing into the man's back and slamming him forward violently. Dean dropped from the tree and rolled onto his knees, gaining his feet and rushing to Daniel's side. Daniel held his weapon on the demon as the fair-haired man rose, a devilish grin on his face.

"You're weapons are useless against me, hunter," the demon hissed as he took a step toward the brothers.

Daniel made to pull the trigger again, but with a flick of the demon's hand, the gun was ripped from his hand and flung across the clearing. Another flick of his hand and now it was Daniel who was flying through the air. A large pine tree stopped Daniel's flight and the hunter dropped bonelessly to the earth with a dull thud. Dean raced across the clearing, dropping to Daniel's side, his fingers reaching out to his brother's neck, a relieved sigh escaping him as he felt a strong, steady pulse. He turned his head, glaring at the demon that remained on the other side of the clearing.

"You son of a bitch! Leave my family alone!" Dean yelled as he stood, keeping his body between the demon and his downed brother.

Without warning, Dean found himself flying, his own back connecting with the unrelenting trunk of a pine tree. He slumped to the ground, drawing in gasping breaths as pain speared through him. He looked up as the demon came to tower above him. Dean sneered up at the demon, trying his best to appear menacing. The demon kneeled down, taking Dean's chin into his hand and pulling the hunters face up to meet his gaze.

"I have not been commanded to hurt you or your family…except your youngest brother. I have been commanded to place my curse upon Sam Winchester…to bring him to the brink," the demon said, his voice soft and melodic.

"Wh-What does that mean? Bring him to the brink?" Dean queried, his heart racing as fear for both his brothers filled him.

"Sam will know what death looks like. He will look death in the eye and he will touch it with trembling hands. You cannot stop what is to come. You can only live with what will follow," the demon answered with a smile.

"You leave my brother alone! He hasn't done anything to deserve this!" Dean cried.

"I do not concern myself with such things. I do as I am commanded by the magician."

With that, the demon grabbed Dean's face, pulling him to his feet before slamming his head into the tree behind him, the young hunter slumping to the ground in a heap. Marbas looked down upon the unconscious hunter then turned to look at the other. He cocked his head as he stepped away from Dean. He turned toward the clinic and walked gracefully across the small clearing then through the trees. He moved out of the trees and stopped, his gaze trained on the window and the older hunter who glared out at him. He smiled chillingly then disappeared in a flash, leaving Frank to frantically search the treeline for the two missing Winchesters.

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Frank stood over Sam, the sleeping young man beginning to show signs once again of distress. He watched the door that Dean and Daniel had disappeared through, his heart sinking with each minute that passed that no Winchester came back into the clinic. Sam cried out, his head rolling restlessly on his pillow, sweat once again pouring off the young man. Sam writhed weakly on the bed, seeming to attempt to lift his hands, but not able to succeed in his endeavor. Frank swallowed nervously, recognizing the early signs of the paralysis that he had predicted could happen. He jerked his attention to the window when he heard a gunshot ring not too far from the clinic. He listened for any other sounds and was deeply troubled when only silence met his ears. He waited and waited, but the fear in him continued to rise as no sounds were heard and no young men came rushing through the door.

Frank wanted to go help the Winchesters brothers, but he could not leave Sam unprotected. The clinic was protected against demons, but not humans. If the figure Dean had seen was Randy Gregory and he had somehow gotten the drop on the brothers, then nothing would keep him from taking or hurting Sam if Frank left the boy unattended. So, Frank stayed put, his weapon at the ready and he waited. The hairs suddenly stood up on his neck and he inched to the window, his eyes peering out into the dark. A tall man suddenly emerged from the trees, his eyes immediately moving to the window. He locked eyes with Frank before he smiled, the smile sending chills down the doctor's spine. Suddenly, the man disappeared into thin air and Frank couldn't stop the involuntary shudder that went through him. At that moment, Frank knew who the figure was. This was the demon Marbas. A great president of Hell, able to bring illness to any man, but also able to restore the persons health if requested of him. Frank didn't hold much hope that Randy Gregory had instructed the demon to spare Sam.

Frank diligently watched over Sam, bathing his heated body with cool water as the fever reducer had not seemed to do much to give the boy relief, not that Frank had expected the medication to work. Sam's movements had weakened considerably and Frank was becoming more and more concerned with the young man's situation. Frank looked to the door, willing the two Winchester brothers to come rushing through. The fact that they had been out in the woods for over a half hour now instead of back by their brother's side was of deep concern for the doctor. A sudden rumble met Frank's ears and he moved to the window to watch as the Impala, followed by Caleb's SUV pulled up to the side of the clinic. He watched John exit his car, Bobby stepping out of the passenger seat. He went back to Sam's side when the boy cried out, taking his limp hand in his own, his fingers over Sam's pulse point. He frowned at the weak pulse, fearing that Sam was close to the end.

Frank looked up when John hurried into the clinic, the hunter's eyes immediately falling onto his youngest son. The man rushed to Sam's side upon seeing the obvious decline in they young man's condition.

"What's happened? Where are Daniel and Dean?" John queried in a rush.

"Sam is weakening, John. Daniel and Dean…uh…they…" Frank stammered, unsure of how to tell John that his two eldest sons had gone after a demon and had yet to return.

"They what, Frank!? Where the hell are they and why did they leave their brother!?" John shouted.

"They left Sam because Dean saw someone out by the trees, staring at the clinic. He took off out there, Daniel on his heel," Frank said. "That was over a half an hour ago, John. I saw the man that Dean saw. It was the demon."

"Son of a bitch!" Bobby exclaimed at the doctor's words.

"Sh*t! Okay…Joshua, you stay with Sam…help Frank. Bobby, Caleb…you come with me. We need to find the boys…" John instructed, the fear radiating from him.

John reached down and tenderly ran his fingers over Sam's cheek before moving away from his baby and toward the door. Joshua moved in to take his place next to the bed and watched as John, Bobby and Caleb headed for the door. Frank's voice stopped the retreating hunters, the three turning at the doctor's words.

"Sam can see, John," he said softly.

John stood and stared, first at Frank then at Sam. "Wh-what? When?"

"We moved Sam into the bathtub to try and bring down his fever. He awakened and he could see."

"Oh my God…Sammy," John whispered, tears filling his dark eyes.

John gazed at Sam, torn between returning to his side and finding his other sons. Finally, he pulled his eyes away from his baby and rushed out the door, the urgency of finding Dean and Daniel filling him. Frank watched as John and the others hurried out the door then turned back to Sam. Joshua had taken over bathing Sam's face and chest, his worried gaze meeting Franks before turning back to the whimpering boy.

"How bad is he, doc?" Joshua queried.

Frank gazed at Joshua and shook his head sadly. Joshua looked down at Sam's lax face, the flushed cheeks wet from the tears that leaked from his closed eyes. "How long does he have?"

"I don't know. The infection moved much faster than it normally would," Frank replied.

Joshua shook his head as he moved the cool cloth over Sam's body. He couldn't believe the things that were going down with his small family. Sam deathly ill, Dean and Daniel missing after going after the demon responsible. Joshua prayed that John hadn't lost his two older sons because he was now certain that the youngest wasn't going to last much longer.

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John, followed by Bobby and Caleb, ran into the trees, eyes searching the darkened forest for any sign of the missing hunters. The three hunters broke through the trees into a small clearing, thankful for the moonlight that illuminated the night. It didn't take long for John to see a slumped form across the clearing and he took off at a sprint, dropping down next to the limp body, reaching out to place his fingers against the stricken hunters neck.

"Dean…wake up son. Dean…come on, you need to wake for me," John coaxed, relieved at the strong pulse he felt beneath his fingertips.

"John! We've found Daniel!" Caleb called from across the clearing.

John looked over his shoulder, seeing Bobby and Caleb kneeled down next to another sprawled body. "Is he okay?" he called.

"I think so, Johnny. He's shook up, but I think he'll be okay," Bobby replied, turning to assist Caleb in helping the groggy hunter from the ground.

John nodded in relief then turned back to Dean. The young man was starting to stir and John grasped his arms, gently turning him over, sudden anger welling in him at the confused and dazed look in his son's glassy eyes.

"D-Dad?" Dean stammered weakly as he stared up into this father's face.

"Yeah…I gotcha Dean. Are you okay, kiddo?" John queried.

"Uh…I th-think so. Where's Danny?" Dean asked shakily.

"Bobby and Caleb have him. He's okay, Dean," John answered.

John helped Dean to sit up, the young man wavering as dizziness washed over him. John held him, looking up as Bobby and Caleb helped a shaky Daniel across the clearing.

"Can you stand, Dean?" John asked, his eyes wide with concern.

"I-I think so," Dean answered, grasping John's shoulder and holding on as his father rose steadily from the ground.

John held onto Dean as he swayed, his gaze sweeping over both injured sons.

"Dad? The demon…it was here! We need to get back to Sammy. He could be in trouble…" Daniel cried, trying to pull away from his fellow hunters.

"Danny, it's okay. Sam is with Frank and Joshua," Caleb said, his grip tightening on Daniels arm.

"We need to get back," John said urgently as he gently pulled Dean toward the treeline.

The hunters slowly made their way back to the clinic and within minutes they had cleared the treeline, the clinic looming before them. They entered the clinic, their gazes immediately moving to the bed where Sam's weak body lay. Frank and Joshua were working over the boy, Frank checking his vitals and Joshua trying to cool his body when the hunters entered the room. Both men looked up when John and the others stumbled in, the doctor rushing to them as his eyes fell on the obviously injured young hunters. He instructed John and the others to move the young men to the examination area and began a quick assessment of their condition. Daniel was soon cleared, his body bruised but not broken. Dean, however hadn't gotten off so lucky. Frank determined him to have a slight concussion and ordered him to lay down. Dean's head had just hit the exam table pillow when John's startled cry rang out from across the room. He jerked to a sitting position and was off the table in a heartbeat, intent on reaching his family as they converged on Sam's bed.

Sam was convulsing, his arms and legs flailing bonelessly as his body shook uncontrollably. His eyes were wide open, pupils blown as he stared helplessly up at the ceiling. The men held him as tightly as they could without hurting him as he continued to thrash about on the bed, his body bucking on the thin mattress until suddenly the seizure stopped and he slumped back down onto the bed, his breaths coming in short, pain filled gasps. John reached out and cupped Sam's fevered cheek, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Sam's bloodshot eyes rolled to rest on his face, and the boy smiled softly, his gaze drifting to each of his brothers as they sidled up to the side of the bed. Dean and Daniel looked down upon him with fear in their eyes, their hands trembling as they reached for their baby brother.

"Sammy…you can see us. You can see us, kiddo," Dean whispered, his hand taking Sam's.

Sam smiled weakly, barely able to move even his eyes to look upon his beloved family. His eyes closed, his gasping breaths slowing until there was no movement in his chest. John reached reluctant fingers to Sam's neck, his head drooping at the stillness he felt. He looked up to the expectant faces of his sons, his tear filled eyes answering their unasked question. Daniel lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his baby brother and pulling him up into a tight, desperate embrace, Sam's arms dropping limply to the mattress he lay upon, his head falling back, messy hair dripping with sweat.

"No, Sammy! Nonononono…" Daniel wailed as he rocked his brother, his soft cries tearing through the hearts of the hunters who surrounded them.

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**Yep, that's it for now. I will have more just as soon as I can get it done. And to those of you who are going to be upset with me, yes you know who you are, have faith. You know my motto! Take care all.**

**Cindy.**


	13. Chapter 13

**So, I felt so bad at how I left you all hanging with that VERY evil cliffy, that I thought I'd post a short chapter for you. I was going to continue this chapter and post tomorrow or the next day, but I just couldn't keep you in suspense that long. So, here it is. Hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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_Sam smiled weakly, barely able to move even his eyes to look upon his beloved family. His eyes closed, his gasping breaths slowing until there was no movement in his chest. John reached reluctant fingers to Sam's neck, his head drooping at the stillness he felt. He looked up to the expectant faces of his sons, his tear filled eyes answering their unasked question. Daniel lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his baby brother and pulling him up into a tight, desperate embrace, Sam's arms dropping limply to the mattress he lay upon, his head falling back, messy hair dripping with sweat._

_"No, Sammy! Nonononono…" Daniel wailed as he rocked his brother, his soft cries tearing through the hearts of the hunters who surrounded them._

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Daniel continued to rock his brother, unwilling to let go even as comforting hands reached for him, trying to pull Sam from his grasp. He held on for dear life, willing Sam to awaken, for his brother to come back to him. He tuned out the sounds of his fathers and brothers cries, unable to handle their grief on top of his own. Insistent hands pulled at his arms, finally separating him from his brother. Caleb gently lowered Sam's body to the mattress as Joshua pulled Daniel away. Daniel finally lifted his gaze from his still brother and turned his attention to his remaining family. His gaze settled on John and an anger rose in him that was so intense it nearly made him drop to the floor.

"This is your fault!" Daniel seethed, John's wet eyes widening at the rage he saw in his eldest son's face. "This obsession of yours to find Mom's killer. Raising us like soldiers in some supernatural war! Sam never wanted this life, but you gave him no choice and now he's dead!" the distraught young man screamed before breaking into deep, sorrowful sobs.

"Danny…I…I know. This is my fault. Everything…Michael Wilcox…his son. All my fault. I'm so sorry," John cried, his hand reaching out to grasp Daniel's arm.

Daniel jerked his arm away, backing up a few steps so that he was out of his father's reach. He turned redrimmed eyes to Dean when the younger man began to speak.

"He's not dead, Danny. He's not gone," Dean said softly, his eyes pleading with his brother.

"He's not breathing, Dean! He has no pulse…"

"The demon…Marbas. When you were out and he had me, he said he would bring Sammy to the brink. He said that Sam would look death in the eye…that Sam would touch death. He didn't say that Sam would die," Dean explained, his own tears trailing down his cheeks as he moved his gaze to Sam's limp body.

"Dean…what are you saying?" John asked, a glimmer of hope lifting his heart, just a tiny bit.

"Marbas can bring illness to man, but he can also cure that illness. Right?" Dean said.

"That's right," Bobby said, his gruff voice softened by his sorrow.

"So, Randy Gregory wants to be the one to bring us to our knees for the wrong he thinks we committed. He's not going to let Sam's death be at the hands of a demon he summoned. He's going to save that so called honor for himself," Dean explained, certain that he was right.

"But…but, Sammy's not breathing…" Daniel whispered unbelievingly, despite the hope filled eyes he now had trained on his baby brother.

"I think he's at the brink, just like Marbas said. He'll come back," Dean answered softly.

No sooner had these words left Dean's lips then Sam suddenly gasped, the boy breaking into painful coughs, startling the now shocked hunters. John sprang forward, helping Caleb lift Sam up to a sitting position so the boy wouldn't choke. John felt Dean and Daniel move up beside him, the young men needing to be close to their baby brother. After what seemed an eternity, Sam's coughs eased and he collapsed into his father's chest, his head resting against John's shoulder. John lifted his hand and cupped Sam's head as he lowered his own, kissing Sam's wet hair and taking in the scent that was all Sam.

"Oh God, Sammy…" he said, his hand caressing Sam's hair.

"D'd?" Sam's soft, raspy voice whispered into John's chest.

John gently pulled away, still holding Sam's head. He looked into exhausted, bloodshot eyes and smiled. "You're back, Sammy. We thought we'd lost you," he said although he knew that Sam couldn't hear him.

"Not g-gonna l's me that easy," Sam answered, his voice so weak it could barely be heard.

Dean pushed up, touching Sam's cheek to gain his attention. Sam turned to look at him and smiled softly. "Sammy? Can you hear us?" Dean asked, his eyes wide with wonder.

Sam smiled again and nodded, too weak to voice his answer. John looked at Dean then turned his gaze to Daniel. Daniel's eyes were glued to Sam, his mouth hanging open in shock. "Sammy…" the eldest brother whispered, smiling slightly when Sam looked at him.

John gently lowered Sam to the mattress, the boy pliant in his arms. Frank immediately began to examine him and after a few minutes, he looked up, a smile on his face. "His fever is breaking. His heart and lungs sound good," the doctor said then looked down into Sam's eyes. "How's your head, Sam?"

Sam lay silent for a moment before he softly replied. "It's 'k"

"No pain?" Frank queried.

"A little."

"Okay, let's get you settled. You need to sleep. I'm going to get your IV's hooked back up so you can get some fluids and nutrients," Frank said, smiling as he saw that Sam had already fallen off to sleep.

Frank moved away, heading to cupboards across the room. As he busied himself in gathering the fluids he needed, the other hunters circled Sam's bed, their relieved gazes glued to the now sleeping boy. John held Sam's hand, his thumb rubbing absently over the boy's palm, tears spilling down his stubbled cheeks. Dean stood beside him, his hand resting on Sam's knee while Daniel moved to the other side of the bed, easing in front of Caleb so that he could be as near to Sam as possible. He lifted his hand up, carding his fingers through Sam's hair, a corner of his mouth lifting at the tousled mess. Daniel lifted his eyes, moving his gaze to his father.

"Dad?" he whispered, his voice filled with shame.

"Yeah?" John answered, his dark eyes lifting to his eldest son.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things," Daniel answered.

"No…you were right, Danny. I dragged you boys into this life and while you and Dean embraced it, Sammy…well, he's just not like us. I know it's hard on him. I just don't know any other life that I could live," John said, his sad eyes once more falling onto his baby's face.

"It's okay, Dad. Sammy knows what we do is important. He may not embrace this life like we do, but he won't run from it either," Dean said softly.

"I don't want this life for him. Not for any of you, but the night that demon visited Sam's nursery, his life was chosen for him. I don't think it would have mattered if we hadn't become hunters. Evil touched all of our lives that night, and a white picket fence wouldn't have kept it away. None of us really had a choice, but I could have handled it differently than I did," John said.

The men looked up as Frank came back to the bed, Caleb moving aside so the doctor could get Sam hooked back up to the much needed fluids his drained body needed. John and his boys were brought chairs, the other hunters knowing without words that the three would not be leaving Sam's bedside. Bobby, Caleb and Joshua silently moved toward Franks living quarters, followed closely by the doctor. They turned and gave one last look to the small family, knowing that the biggest fight was yet to come. Randy Gregory was still out there and they knew that he wouldn't rest until Sam was dead and the Winchesters were destroyed.

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**Like I said, short, but hopefully sweet. The calm before the storm. Take care all.**

**Cindy.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay girls (and boys?)...I have another chapter for you. It's a short one again and I apologize for that. We had some drama here this weekend so I wasn't able to work on it last night. I hope the quality make up for the lack of quantity. Please let me know.**

**Cindy.**

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John sat at the diningroom table, his gaze settled on his three sons. Sam had been moved into Franks home so that he would be more comfortable and so that he could more easily be watched over. He, Dean and Daniel were now situated in the livingroom, Sam lounging on the sofa while Dean sat at the end of the sofa, Sam's feet resting on his lap. Daniel sat in the armchair near Sam's head, the eldest brother making John smile as he fussed over the youngest. John was brought out of his musings when Bobby sat down next to him, setting a steaming mug of coffee before him on the table. John smiled appreciatively as he reached out for the hot beverage.

"Thanks, Bobby," John said, his gaze moving back to his sons.

Bobby followed his gaze and smiled softly. "He'll be okay, Johnny. We'll find that bastard Randy Gregory," the older man said.

John turned his eyes back on his friend, his dark eyes drooping with exhaustion. "I hope so, Bobby. The kid's been through enough, he doesn't need anything more to happen."

"Joshua and Caleb are out there right now running down some leads. He won't get to Sammy," Bobby said.

"That's what we said about Michael and Trenton Wilcox, but both of them got to him. We've kind of been hitting fouls when it's come to protecting the kid," John said tiredly as he ran his hand over his scruffy face.

Bobby just shook his head knowing that John was right and that there really was no guarantee that they could keep the psycho Randy Gregory from getting to Sam. The man had somehow figured out how to summon demons to do his bidding and these demons had proven that they could get to the kid no matter what protections were in place to keep him safe. There was no telling what the man had in store next. The only guarantee was that he would try something again. He had made it perfectly clear that he would be the one to end Sam's life and bring the Winchesters to their knees. They all knew that Sam coming back to them was no accident and certainly no miracle. Randy Gregory had no intention of Sam dying at the demon's hands. He wanted to be the cause of Sam's death, just as John and the boys had been the cause of his child's. The big question was, what would he try next? How did he intend to get to Sam? Would they be able to protect the youngest hunter when it all went down?

"I know how he feels, you know?" John's voice sounded, low so that his boys wouldn't hear him.

"What? You know how who feels? Sam?" Bobby queried.

"No. Randy Gregory. I know how he feels. If someone had killed one of my boys right in front of me, I'd be after them in a heartbeat," John said, shifting his gaze from his boys to his old friend.

"Yeah. But you wouldn't go after their kid. You wouldn't be that cowardly," Bobby replied.

"No, I wouldn't. I'm just saying I know how he feels. I mean…come after me, not my baby. Kill me, not my child."

"He doesn't want you dead, Johnny. He wants you and the boys to feel what he feels. He wants you to live with the pain like he's been living with it…"

"By going after an innocent kid? Sammy wasn't even there! Hell, if he had been there, he probably would have been trying to figure out how to save the father without killing the son. But Randy Gregory doesn't give a sh*t about that! All he sees as the answer is revenge. Killing an innocent teenager so that we suffer…I just don't get that, Bobby."

"People are crazy, Johnny. The things we hunt? They really have no choice in what they are. What they do. Most of them didn't make a conscious decision to be evil. Humans though? They have a choice. Now I know that some are so mentally unstable that they really can't make that distinction, but most…they know right from wrong."

"Sh*t, Bobby. Most of the threats to Sam have come from humans. I know that Michael and Trenton Wilcox had the whole binding spell thing going on, but they were still just humans who decided that raping and killing teenaged boys was the thing to do. Now this. Kid can't seem to catch a break. He goes off to college, doing the whole normal thing and he still can't escape all this crap!"

John stood abruptly and moved to look out the window behind where he had been sitting. Bobby watched him, wishing there were something more that he could do for his friend. This was his family and the helplessness that he felt was not something he was used to. Well, not until Michael Wilcox had shown up to try and tear them apart. Then there was his wacko son, Trenton. Now, they had Randy Gregory vowing to kill the youngest member of their small family. Bobby loved that kid more than he would ever admit, his brothers too, and if Randy Gregory thought that he was going to take Sam away from him, well the idjit had another thing coming. Bobby would lay down his life in a heartbeat to protect the baby of their family, no questions asked. What scared Bobby was the fact that Randy Gregory seemed to know that he would be hunted down and killed for what he was doing, but the man didn't seem to care. In fact, he seemed to welcome what was coming, just as long as he took Sam out first. Bobby believed in his heart that it was the man's plan to kill Sam, then allow himself to be killed by the Winchesters. The man knew that John and his older boys would be devastated by Sam's death and that killing the boy's murderer wouldn't change any of that. The only thing it would accomplish would be to put the man out of his own misery.

John sat down once more next to Bobby, his head resting in his hand. "We have to stop this bastard, Bobby. I can't lose my baby. I can't see him hurt anymore," the man said, his voice trembling with emotion.

"We will, Johnny. Randy Gregory is going to need an army if he wants to get to Sam," Bobby answered.

"Well, he can get that, Bobby. All he needs to do is summon them," John said warily.

"We'll stop him before that happens."

"It could already be done for all we know. The a**hole's like a ghost. I guess all of his money makes it easy for him to become invisible."

"We'll find him, Johnny."

"I'm not so sure about that, Bobby. I wish I could be, but after what's gone down the past two years, I can't be certain of anything anymore. There seems to be a curse on us. Something keeping us from being able to protect my boy."

"But we have been able to, Johnny. In the end, we've come out on top."

"But at what cost? Sure, Sam's nightmares have mostly gone away, but he'll never be the same as he was before those two maniacs got hold of him. I know he still blames himself for Alisa's death. I know it still haunts him. I think that was the worst part for Sam. All of the physical pain he suffered was nothing compared to losing his first love. And losing her the way he did?"

"The kid's still grieving pretty heavily?"

"Yeah, he is. I don't know if he'll ever be able to love someone like that again. You know how he is. He thinks he's cursed. He thinks that if he lets himself fall again, that it would only get the girl killed. He said something to that effect to Daniel during one of his phone calls. He wouldn't listen to reason. Stubborn little brat!"

Bobby chuckled at that, shaking his head in amusement. "Wonder where he got that from."

John smiled sheepishly, well as sheepishly as John Winchester could smile, but it was a genuine smile. "Mary was one stubborn lady," he said softly.

"Yeah…Mary was the stubborn one," Bobby said.

John smiled again then turned his gaze back on his boys. Dean was rubbing Sam's legs through the blanket that covered him and Daniel was fussing like a mother hen over his baby brother. Sam was rolling his eyes, all the while with a warm grin spread across his face, soaking in the attention like a sponge. John straightened when Sam's gaze moved to him, the boy grinning wider and shrugging his shoulders ever so slightly at the indignity he was allowing his brothers to bestow upon him just to make them happy.

Sam suddenly turned away when Dean leaned over and bit his toe through the blanket, the youngest brother squealing in surprise then breaking out in uncontrolled giggles as Dean pulled the blanket up and began to tickle his feet. Daniel jumped to his brother's defense, trying to dislodge Dean from Sam's foot, but when he was hit with a pillow from behind, he turned shocked eyes over his shoulder only to see Sam stick his tongue out at him.

"Okay, that's the last time I try to save you from that heathen!" Daniel shot before he lunged at Sam, his fingers finding Sam's tender sides, the youngest Winchester screaming in mock terror before breaking out into fits of more uncontrolled giggles.

The brother's laughter filled the house, warming the hearts of the two older hunters who watched the scene with delight. They soaked in the sights and sounds of the boys being nothing but brothers. At that moment, there was no demon summoning psycho ready to tear their family apart. There was no yellow eyed man lurking somewhere in the shadows. There was only the laughter of three brothers who loved each other so much that they would die for each other. Both John and Bobby knew the moment was fleeting and that soon enough they would have to deal with the darkness that was trying to cover them all, but for now, there was only the laughter and it was that wonderful sound that would hopefully carry them through the darkness and back into the light.

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**So, a bit of schmoop before the action begins. Hope you liked it.**

**Cindy.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay, I have the next chapter for you. I really struggled with this one. I'm still not one hundred percent happy with it, but I figured I could only mess it up if I kept messing with it. I hope it doesn't disappoint.**

**Cindy.**

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Dean and Daniel were in the kitchen making sandwiches, the tickle war having ended nearly a half an hour ago. They had left Sam sleeping on the sofa, the poor kid exhausted after receiving the brunt of the tickles. The older brothers were feeling a bit guilty, but the soft smile on Sam's lips as he slept let them know just how much their kid brother had needed that little bit of normalcy. They had left Sam to sleep in peace as they came to the kitchen, a sandwich for the youngest brother sitting covered on a plate, ready for when he awakened. The brothers sat at the breakfast bar and began to eat, their tummies soon full.

"So, do you think we'll find the bastard?" Dean queried as the boys cleaned the dishes and countertops.

"Who? Gregory?" Daniel replied, turning a questioning gaze on his brother.

"No…the energizer bunny, you doof!" Dean spat, smacking Daniel with the dishcloth he was using to dry the dishes. "Yes…Gregory! Do you think we'll find him?"

"I don't know, dude. I hope so. Joshua and Caleb are on it right now," Daniel answered, his voice taking on a worried tone.

"We should be out there looking too, you know," Dean said, folding the dishcloth and placing in on the counter.

"Dad says he doesn't want any less than three of us watching over Sam, Dean. If that asshole sends anymore of his buddies for Sam, we need to have enough of us to take care of the situation," Daniel explained evenly.

"I know…I know. I just feel useless sitting here," Dean said with frustration.

"And tell me this little brother. If the shit went down here, and we were out there looking for the dickhead, how would you feel if something happened to Sam?"

Dean stopped what he was doing and looked long and hard at Daniel before he replied. "Point taken, Danny. I'd feel like I let Sam down."

Daniel nodded knowingly. "Yep, I know. Me too. So, as boring as it is sitting here…we still have the most important job. We get to take care of the brat. I don't know about you, but there's nothing else I'd rather do."

Dean chuckled lightly as he softly slugged Daniel on the shoulder. "Hey…you think Dad'd be pissed if we painted Sammy's face? We could make him look like a clown. He'd get up to take a pee and scare himself silly when he looked in the mirror."

Daniel stared incredulously at his brother, his mouth hanging open. "Dean…the kid nearly died a few days ago. Are you out of your frickin' mind? And yes, Dad would skin us alive!"

"Shit, Danny! I was just kidding, you idiot! You really think I'd do that to Sammy?" Dean choked out, his eyes growing wide at Daniel's knowing glance. "Okay, okay…I've done it before, but I was just kidding about it this time."

Daniel shook his head and strolled out of the kitchen, through the diningroom and into the livingroom where Sam still slept, the kid having turned onto his side, his hand curled under his cheek. Dean came up behind Daniel and gazed down at his sleeping brother.

"God…he looks like he's five years old when he sleeps like that," Daniel whispered as he moved to sit on the armchair near Sam's head, his fingers reaching out to brush unruly bangs away from the sleeping boy's forehead.

Dean nodded, a slight smile on his lips. "Yeah…I can't believe anyone would want to hurt him"

The young men looked up when the front door opened and John and Bobby walked in, the oldest hunter softly shutting the door when he saw that Sam was sleeping.

"Have you heard from Caleb or Joshua?" Dean asked quietly.

"Not yet," John answered, turning his head toward the door when it opened again, Frank stepping through and into the room.

"Doc, where you been?" Dean queried.

"Needed to replenish some supplies," Frank replied, a nod of his head indicating the bag that hung from his hand. "How's the patient?"

"Sleeping. We have a sandwich for him when he wakes up," Daniel answered.

"His fever still down?" the doctor asked.

"He's still a little warm, but he's good, doc," Dean said.

"Good. That's good. I'm going to go get these supplies put away then I'll just have a look see at the kid," Frank said as he moved out of the room, the doctor casting a quick glance over his shoulder as he left.

The men watched as the doctor headed toward his clinic before John moved toward the couch, the Winchester patriarch reaching down to feel his baby's forehead. He smiled softly at the sight of Sam sleeping, his hand tucked under his cheek just like when he was a child. "You boys really tired the poor kid out, didn't you?" John commented with a grin.

"Kid can't take a good tickle," Dean said with a chuckle.

"Dean…" John warned, a glint in his dark eyes.

"Sorry, Dad," Dean said, properly chagrined.

"So…Dad, what're we gonna do?" Daniel asked, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together.

"What do you mean?" John queried.

"Are we staying here until we find Randy Gregory or are we taking off soon?" Daniel replied.

"I don't think we can even think about leaving until Sammy is stronger. This place is protected, we have Frank here just in case…"

"Yeah, but Gregory knows where we are," Dean said.

"I know that, but he'll find us no matter where we go. The demons can find us even if he doesn't know exactly where we are."

"Your dad is right, boys. I think for right now, our best option for keeping Sam safe is to stay put," Bobby offered.

"I just hope Caleb and Josh have found something…anything," Daniel said softly, his gaze shifting to his sleeping brother.

The hunters fell silent, each one in agreement with Daniel's statement. Bobby started for the kitchen, but suddenly, the grizzled hunter was thrown back into the livingroom, his back connecting violently with the front door, his body dropping limply to the floor. Dean and Daniel were instantly on their feet, rushing to Johns' side, the three placing themselves between the diningroom and Sam as three men entered the room.

"We're here for the boy," the tallest of the men said, his eyes flashing red before turning back to deep blue.

"Demons…" Dean hissed under his breath.

"How the hell did you get in here!?" John spat, his heart in his throat.

"Does that really matter, John Winchester?" another of the demons queried, his eyes moving past the three hunters to the boy who was starting to stir on the sofa.

"D'd?" Sam's tired voice whispered.

"Sam…stay right where you are," John commanded, the man moving so that the demons could not see past him to his youngest son.

"Wh…what's going on?" Sam started to move off the sofa, falling back when Dean called out to him.

"Listen to Dad, Sammy…stay there…"

Sam watched his family, his eyes wide, the boy unable to see the three men who stood in the doorway between the diningroom and livingroom. Sam's eyes widened further when he heard an unfamiliar voice sound from somewhere in front of his father and brothers.

"We want the boy. Give him to us and nobody else has to be hurt," the voice said deeply.

Sam gasped, fearful of just who had been hurt. His heart pounded as his father spoke.

"You'll have to go through us to get to him, you evil sons of bitches!" John threatened fiercely.

"Dad…no…I'm not worth it," Sam whispered, tears immediately springing to his hazel eyes.

"Listen to your son…is he really worth getting your other sons hurt?" the tall demon queried.

"You bet your ass he is!" Dean shouted.

"D'n…no…"

"Fine…as you wish."

Without warning, the three hunters were thrown, each in different directions. John hit the wall next to the front door, his body dropping like a rock. Dean hit the fireplace, the young man staying in place, an unseen force holding him tight to the mantel. Daniel hit the picture window behind the sofa, his body barely missing Sam's head as he flew over his brother, his body crashing through the glass and landing on the grass outside. Sam cried out in surprise and fear as he witnessed his family being assaulted.

"No!! Stop it! Please…don't hurt them!" Sam screamed, the boy jumping to his feet, his body swaying as dizziness swept over him.

"Sammy!" Dean cried, the middle brother struggling against the invisible hands that held him.

John slowly pushed himself to his feet, the man staggering toward his baby. He was suddenly stopped, unable to move his feet. "How did you get in here?" he hissed, his body straining to get to his son.

"We had a little help," the tall demon said, his smile cold as he looked over his shoulder.

John sucked in a breath as Frank entered the room, a sneer on the doctor's face.

"Frank…why?" Bobby's stunned voice sounded, the old hunter pulling himself up from the floor then leaning his weary body against the door.

Frank chuckled as he strolled across the room. He came to stand before Sam, the boy's body trembling with fear and exhaustion. Frank lifted his hand and ran his fingers down Sam's face.

"Get your filthy hands off of my brother, you traitor!" Dean screamed, the young man struggling all the more to get free.

Frank spared no glance Dean's way as he shoved Sam to the sofa, the boy dropping to the cushions as the doctor towered over him. He looked over his shoulder and nodded at the demons. The demons started across the room, the three hunters that remained in the house struggling with all that they had to break free from their bonds. The tall demon approached the sofa, Frank moving out of the way to make room. The demon reached down to the trembling teenager and placed his hand on Sam's forehead. Sam gasped as he flung his head back, his body going rigid at the demons touch.

"Sammy! No!" John screamed, his eyes moving from his baby to his middle son and back.

Dean's eyes were wide as John gazed at him. He moved his eyes to Sam, untold terror and panic coursing through him as Sam was attacked. The tall demon's lips began to move and without warning, Sam disappeared, the air in the room crackling with electricity.

Dean stared in shock at where his brother had been, his tear filled eyes moving to his father. John stood stock still, his mouth hanging open, his body shaking as he continued to struggle to move.

"Sammy," John whispered, tears filling his eyes and falling down his cheeks, the man unable to move his gaze from the empty space where his baby had been just moments before.

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**Um...Frank? What the frick!? So, the fun begins. Well, you know the drill. Please let me know what you think. I'll more by the end of the week. Take care.**

**Cindy.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks for the comments guys. I appreciate them. Here's more.**

**Cindy.**

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"John's not going to be happy that we haven't found that weasel, Randy Gregory yet," Caleb said, his gaze drifting from the road before him to his friend riding shotgun.

"No, he's not. This guy is one slippery son of a bitch," Joshua answered, frustration evident in his voice.

"You've got that right. I just don't know what else to do. I've got Manny doing any kind of credit card search, paper trails and so far…nothing," Caleb said, his eyes looking down the dirt road as the clinic came into view.

"Well, we may as well get it over with and break the news to the guys," Joshua said.

Caleb nodded as he brought the SUV around the bend in the road that led to the front of the clinic and house. "What the f***!?" he exclaimed as the front of the house came into view and the men saw a still body laid out in the grass beneath the broken picture window.

Joshua was out the passenger door before Caleb could even come to a complete stop, the tall hunter racing across the yard to drop down next to the bloodied body. "Oh my God…Danny!" he exclaimed, his hands ghosting over Daniels still form.

Caleb came up behind Joshua, his eyes moving over the front of the house, his weapon drawn. "Is he okay, Josh?"

"Don't know…Danny…wake up kiddo…come on…open your eyes," Joshua coaxed as he took inventory of the many cuts that covered Daniel's upper body.

"Uhnnn…wh…" Daniel moaned, his head rolling to the side as his eyes fluttered open.

"Danny…you okay, kiddo? What the hell happened here?" Joshua queried, his hands helping the confused young man to sit up.

Daniel looked at Joshua, his eyes seeming to not comprehend what was going on at the moment. He turned his eyes to the front of the house then whipped them back to Joshua, sudden alarm widening them further.

"I-I don't know. Demons…in the house. Oh, God…Sammy…" Daniel cried out, the young man trying to rise from the ground, Joshua and Caleb grasping his arms to steady him.

"Demons? How the hell did demons get in!?" Caleb exclaimed, already moving toward the front door, Daniel's arm held tightly in his grasp.

The three men moved cautiously toward the front door, taking the three steps as carefully and quietly as possible. They came to the door and slowly pushed it open, all three moving into the livingroom and smack dab into the middle of a very strange showdown. John and Bobby stood right in front of them, the two hunters not acknowledging their entrance as they stared down the doctor they had thought they could trust and the three demons who Frank had let into the house. Dean was on the other side of the room, cut off from the rest of the hunters by the demons and Frank. He was still suspended in front of the fireplace, his body held in place by an invisible force. Daniel sucked in a panicked breath when he saw the empty sofa, no sign of Sam anywhere in the room.

"Sammy…" he whispered, his eyes roving to every corner that he could see, hoping to see Sam hiding someplace. His father's voice brought his attention front and center and his heart sank into his stomach at the man's words.

"Where the hell is my son, you evil son of a bitch!"

"He's a long way from here, John Winchester. He's with the magician now," the tall demon said, a cold sneer curling his pale lips.

Daniel let out a pained cry, his eyes staring at the demon, hatred burning in his veins. He moved his gaze to his struggling brother, fear chilling him at being separated from his sibling. He met Dean's eyes and he could see the fear and panic in the younger brother's eyes.

"Frank? What're you doing?" Daniel queried, his gaze moving to the doctor he had trusted with his baby brother's life.

"Payback, Danny boy…payback," the doctor hissed with a soft chuckle.

"Payback? For what?" Dean shot, his body straining to break free from the mantel.

Frank merely smiled as he stared down the hunters before him. The three demons moved forward suddenly, pushing the surprised doctor out of the way. "This has been fun, hunters, but it is time for us to leave. Our work is done," the tallest demon said and with a crack of electricity, the demons disappeared before the startled hunters eyes. Dean dropped to the floor in front of the fireplace and immediately began to push to his feet. Frank spun around, his eyes wide as he was now left alone to face the enraged hunters by himself.

"Frank, I'm going to ask you this one time and if I even think you are lying, I will gut you where you stand," John hissed, infuriated when the doctor smiled at his threat.

"Let me guess…you want me to tell you where sweet little Sammy is, right?" the doctor said sweetly, enraging the hunters further.

"You tell me where he was sent right now, you son of a bitch!" John hissed, his body shaking with fury.

"Sorry, Johnny. My job was to get the demons into the house. I don't know where your precious Sammy is," Frank said, shrugging his shoulders with indifference.

"Why, Frank? Tell me why you did this," Bobby said, anger tightening his voice.

Before Frank could answer, a shot rang out and the doctor fell, dead before he hit the floor.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam's eyes shot open, the pain in his head intense as awareness came back to him. He tried to move his body, but found that his limbs would not respond to the commands that his brain was sending. He felt what could be grass tickle his cheek and he moved his head so that he was looking up into a star speckled sky. He was lying outside, trees around him, the sound of crickets chirping from their hiding places. Sam shivered, the cool night air whispering over his bared skin. His t-shirt and thin sleep pants provided little protection from the weather and the boy shivered again as his eyes surveyed his surroundings.

"You're awake finally," a cold voice said from the shadows.

Sam jerked his eyes to the side and tried once again to move. A man moved into his vision and he instantly knew that this was Randy Gregory, the man who had decided that Sam had to pay for the wrongs this man thought his family had committed. Sam swallowed, fear taking hold of him at the coldness in the man's eyes. He tried to pull away when the man kneeled beside him, his hand reaching out, fingers trailing down Sam's cheek.

"Don't touch me, you son of a bitch!" Sam hissed, his head jerking to the side when the man suddenly slapped him.

"You'll show me respect, boy! I hold your life in my hands," Randy said, his fingers gripping Sam's hair and pulling his face around to meet his gaze.

"I only show respect to those that have earned it!" Sam retorted, bracing himself for more pain, his eyes moving over the man's face when no hit came.

"You're feisty. Just like my David. You remind me of him, you know?"

Sam remained quiet, his eyes never straying from the man's face. He tried as hard as he could to not reveal the fear he felt. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know where his family was or if they were even okay. The thought that they could be hurt scared him more than any of the possible scenarios his mind could come up with for what this deranged man before him had planned for him.

"You aren't going to talk to me, huh? I guess I can understand that. Do you know why I targeted you, Sammy?"

"Don't call me that," Sam hissed, his eyes narrowing in anger.

Randy continued as if Sam never spoke, his eyes taking on a far off look. "I had originally planned on killing your family, but when I found out about you, I knew there was a way to hurt them much deeper than taking their lives. I cut out the heart and soul of their family and they suffer for the rest of their lives. I watched you for a long time, Sam and the times that your father and brothers visited it became apparent to me that you are exactly that…the heart and soul of the Winchester family. Kill you, destroy them. It's really quite simple."

Sam stared at the man as if he had completely lost his mind. He tried yet again to move, baffled at why his limbs would not respond.

"What have you done to me?" he asked, his head rolling weakly over the cool ground.

"The paralysis? It's a byproduct of your being transported here…supernaturally," Randy answered nonchalantly.

Sam eyed the man, fear taking a stronger hold of him at the sheer coldness he saw in Randy Gregory's eyes.

"What're you going to do to me?" was Sam's next question.

"Ahhh, now that's the million dollar question," Randy answered, an ominous grin spreading over his face.

Sam stared at him, waiting for an answer. Randy gazed down at him, reaching out once again to brush his fingers over Sam's cheek. Randy chuckled as Sam tried to move away from his touch.

"You don't really want to know what I have planned, Sam. Believe me, where you're going… I don't envy you."

Sam swallowed convulsively, the look in the man's eyes deepening his fear. Randy straightened, his hand reaching into his jacket pocket, Sam's eyes widening as he saw the syringe that the man pulled out. He tried to pull away as Randy brought the syringe closer, the needle now exposed and ready. Randy smiled as the needle pierced the skin of Sam's upper arm, the boy hissing as the liquid entered his body. Sam looked up with eyes that were already starting to droop, the pull of the drug dragging him slowly into the waiting darkness. Sam could feel the tug of his clothes being removed, but he lacked the energy or strength to do anything about it. The last thing that Sam saw before the darkness swallowed him was Randy Gregory's triumphant face smiling coldly down at him as the man tossed Sam's shirt aside.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The hunters spun in the direction where the gunshot had come from, their eyes widening at who stood in the entry from the diningroom to the livingroom.

"F-Frank?" Bobby whispered, his eyes moving from the dead doctor who lay on the floor, blood pooling beneath his body, to the very much alive doctor who stood, smoking gun in hand staring at the same body on the floor.

Frank looked up to meet the surprised gazes of the hunters, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. "Shapeshifter," was all that he could get out before he dropped to his knees.

Bobby rushed forward, his arms wrapping around the fallen man's shoulders. John and Dean approached the downed form, both still in shock at the evenings events. John reached out, his hand pinching the skin on the dead man's cheek, the skin peeling off easily from the bones beneath.

"Sh*t…" John hissed, dropping the chunk of skin to the floor.

"I'm s-sorry. Son of a bitch got the drop on me when I came out of the pharmacy," Frank said, his eyes glued to his doppelganger. "At least the bastard left my car."

"So, the demons employed a shapeshifter to get them into the house?" Bobby queried.

Frank nodded as he looked at his friend. "The bastard told me he was only too happy to oblige. Seems he'd been hunted ruthlessly about a year ago. Nearly didn't make it. Said he was waiting for a chance to get revenge. Didn't matter that you weren't the hunters who nearly got him."

Dean looked away from the doctor when Caleb and Joshua moved Daniel to the sofa, the younger brother jumping to his feet and moving to his brother, his stomach knotted at the blood that soaked the collar of Daniel's shirt. Joshua was already examining a cut on Daniel's neck, the cut dangerously close to the young man's juggler vein. The men all went still when Frank spoke again, their hearts heavy with fear and loss.

"Where's Sam? Please tell me he's okay."

Bobby lowered his head, sensing Frank's gaze on him. "He's gone, Frank. They…they sent him somewhere."

Frank sank to the floor, devastated at the news of the loss of the youngest hunter. He immediately blamed himself for Sam's disappearance, the guilt clearly visible on his face.

"Don't blame yourself, Frank. It's not your fault. This is just a messed up situation," John said as he rose from the floor.

The dull light from outside had faded to dark, casting shadows about the room that leant perfectly with the mood that permeated the house. Frank looked over to where Joshua continued his assessment of Daniel's injuries. He pushed out of Bobby's grasp and staggered to his feet.

"Bring him to the clinic. I'll get him fixed up," Frank said, his eyes moving over each hunter with sadness.

"I'm okay, doc," Daniel said, the loss heavy in his tone.

"Go get fixed up, Dan. That's an order," John said, his gaze moving to his eldest son.

Daniel stared a moment before he allowed Caleb and Joshua to help him up from the sofa. "Yes, sir," he whispered as he shuffled across the floor, the older hunters ready to catch him should he fall.

Dean watched as Daniel followed Frank to the clinic then moved close to his father. "Dad, what are we going to do? We have no idea where Sammy is," he said, his body visibly trembling.

"I don't know, Dean. I just don't know," John answered, his eyes moving over the room before coming to rest on the last place that his baby had been before he disappeared.

Both men jumped when the phone from the kitchen rang and watched as Bobby rushed to answer the call. They moved into the kitchen, knowing something was up when Bobby's face went red as he listened to voice on the other end. The older hunter pushed a button on the phone then replaced the handset into it's cradle.

"Am I on speaker?" the familiar voice queried.

"Yes," Bobby answered tightly.

"Is John and his boys there?" Randy Gregory's voice asked.

"We're here," John said, his voice shaking with fury.

John looked up as Daniel and the others entered the kitchen through the open door leading to the clinic. The men all stared at the phone, their hearts beating wildly in their chests.

"I have Sam, as you may have guessed…"

"Where is my brother you son of a bitch!?" Dean spat, John grasping his arm to silence him.

"Dean, right? I can't tell you where Sam is. That would be too easy. And, before you ask, you can't speak with him either. I have drugged him and I'm afraid he is out cold right now."

"You bastard! If you've hurt my baby, I will tear you apart, one limb at a time!" John threatened.

"Temper, temper, John. It won't be good for little Sammy if you make me mad. I've called to give you clues. If you don't want to find Sam in time to save him, just keep it up," Randy Gregory hissed.

"Fine…I'm sorry. Just tell me how to find my son," John said, his body shaking as he kept his voice steady.

"Sam is someplace that you've been before. It's very dark. If you want to save him, you'd better hurry. He has approximately eight hours to live. Oh, and he's not alone," Randy said, his voice cold.

"What do you mean he isn't alone?" Daniel queried, his voice shaky.

"Oh, that doesn't really matter, Daniel. Not like he's in any danger or anything," Randy said, chuckling softly.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean shouted.

"Look, I'm giving you a chance to find your brother, but if you continue to piss me off, I may just kill the little bastard and be done with it!" Randy hissed.

"How do we know that you haven't already killed him?" Caleb queried, his grip tightening on Daniel's arm when the young man cried out softly.

"You don't. But believe me…he's very much alive. For now. Now, we're wasting Sam's time. Like I said, he has about eight hours and you're going to need all of that time to find him," Randy said.

"How the hell are we supposed to find him with what you told us? Someplace we've been before? Dark?" John asked.

"You'll figure it out…if you truly want to save your son."

"How can you do this to an innocent kid? Sam had nothing to do with any of this," Joshua asked, his eyes narrowed.

"How could they do what they did to my son? Sam isn't any better than David was. Why does he deserve to live when David is dead? No…Sam is getting exactly what David got. The only difference is he will die slowly. He'll have time to think about what's happening to him and you'll all know that he's suffering because of you. It's what you all deserve!"

John rushed forward when the line went silent, the man frantically grabbing up the handset. "Gregory! No! Where is my son you bastard!?" he screamed into the phone.

Bobby stepped up to his friend and pulled the handset from him. He replaced it in it's cradle and led John to the kitchen table, guiding his friend into a chair. "We'll find him, Johnny," the older hunter said.

John looked up at Bobby, his dark eyes wide. "How, Bobby? We have no f***ing idea where the psycho has him! He could be on the other side of the planet for all we know!"

"I don't think so. I think he wants us to find him," Bobby said.

John stood and began to pace, his hand brushing through is disheveled hair. "Why would he want us to find him? His whole point is to make us suffer by losing Sammy."

"But, he'll want you to find him so you can see with your own eyes what he did. What he took from you. We just need to figure out where Sam is before his time runs out. Randy Gregory underestimates us. We'll find him, Johnny," Bobby replied as he grasped John's shoulder.

"I hope you're right, Bobby. God…I hope you're right."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam came awake with a jolt, his eyes searching the darkness that surrounded him. His head still hurt and he felt groggy, his mind hazy. He raised his hands, sighing with relief when he found that he could move. The darkness enveloped him and he wondered if he had been stricken blind again. He raised up, crying out when his head came in contact with a hard surface above him.

"What the hell?" he whispered as he nursed his forehead, his head dropping back down to rest on the ground beneath him.

Sam felt around him with his hands, the feeling of wood beneath his fingers. His left hand came into contact with something round and hard, not too big around. He felt around some more, finding more hard objects, crinkling his nose when a strange, pungent odor filled his nostrils. It smelled somewhat of burnt hair and something else Sam couldn't place. His right hand suddenly bumped into something cold and Sam grasped it in his hand and pulled it up over his chest, his left hand coming up to feel along it's length.

"Flashlight?" he whispered, searching for the button that would hopefully shed some light on his current situation.

The light came on and Sam gasped as he saw that he was trapped within a wooden box. The box was approximately six feet long and about three feet wide. Sam moved the light and his head to the left, crying out in horror as he found what he had been feeling just moments before. Sam was staring into the wide sockets of a human skull, flesh that appeared to be burnt still sticking to the bone in places. Sam tried to scuttle away, but the side of his prison stopped him after he moved only a few inches.

"Oh my God…where am I?" Sam whispered, his eyes moving down, the boy gasping when he realized for the first time that he was completely naked.

Tears trailed down Sam's cheeks as his panicked eyes traveled over the wooden surfaces around him. The light from his flashlight glinted off of something on the far side of the skeleton and Sam took several deep breaths to calm himself before he reluctantly reached across the body to grasp the metal object. He pulled it toward him, his eyes moving over what appeared to be an oxygen tank, a mask attached by a thin tube. A piece of paper was attached and Sam turned the tank so that he could see the words that were written on it.

_'Sammy…by now you have met my David. I hope you are getting along well. As you can see, I'm not completely heartless. The tank I have provided will give you approximately eight hours of air. You may want to put the mask on as the air within your coffin is most likely just about ready to run out. Now, you may be wondering why I removed your clothing. You do not deserve any more dignity than my boy received. He died completely naked and vulnerable, as you will. I have given your family several clues as to your whereabouts. It is now up to them to find you before your oxygen runs out. My guess? They won't find you in time. They will figure it out…eventually, but they will only find your body I'm afraid. It has to be done, Sammy. You have to die. My boy will be avenged and your family will be destroyed. Goodbye Sam.'_

Sam dropped the tank to his side, his right hand coming up to cover his face. He was finding it harder and harder to draw in air and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. He pulled the tank up again and placed the mask over his nose and mouth. He found the valve to open the air supply, turning it just enough so that a small amount of oxygen began to flow. He hoped by keeping the valve barely open, he could draw out the air as long as possible, allowing his family time to find him. Once the dizziness passed, Sam relaxed into the floor of the coffin, his head turning to gaze upon his prison mate. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing his heart to slow it's frantic beat. He had never been claustrophobic, but the walls of the coffin were closing in around him and he could feel himself start to hyperventilate. He closed his mouth, breathing through his nose to try and slow his erratic breathing.

Sam couldn't stop the sob that escaped him, or the panic that was washing over him as the enormity of his situation assaulted him. He had been buried alive with the corpse of a werewolf and his family had no idea where he was. He had eight hours of air, if Randy Gregory was to be believed which meant he had about eight hours and a few minutes to live. Sam couldn't control the panic any longer and he screamed out into the mask as he began to claw at the top of the coffin.

"Help me! Please…let me out! Dad! Dean! Daniel! Help me! Help me…"

Sam continued to claw at the wood above him as he screamed, his body finally stilling as exhaustion overtook him. His hands fell to his sides, his fingers bloody. "Help me…please," he whispered, his eyes squeezing shut as tears filled them.

Sam turned onto his side, facing away from David Gregory's remains and curled into a tight ball. His knees were crammed against the side of his coffin, but he refused to back up to allow himself more room, wanting as little contact with the corpse behind him as possible. He continued to cry until his tired body gave in to it's exhaustion and he began to drift off.

"Please find me…" Sam whispered as he fell into a fitful slumber.

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**Well, there you go for now. More to come.**

**Cindy.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys! Thanks for sticking with this story. I appreciate it so much. Here is the next chapter.**

**Cindy.**

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Caleb and Joshua trudged through the trees, their eyes skirting over the surrounding scenery looking for anything that would indicate that their missing family member was hidden in the shadows. Their flashlights shone over the trees and bushes, their eyes occasionally picking out the bobbing lights of their fellow hunters flashlights as they too searched for Sam. It had been decided that the first place they would all look for Sam was the area around Frank's clinic and house. They could see Randy Gregory leading them on a wild goose chase, only to have hidden the young man right under their noses. They didn't have much time if Randy Gregory was telling the truth and so far they had found absolutely nothing.

"We ain't gonna find him here, Josh," Caleb said, his frustrated gaze landing on his friend.

"Don't think so," Joshua said, rubbing his hand over his face.

"We better get back," Caleb said as he moved toward the house.

They finally made it into the house, their gazes falling onto the other hunters gathered in the livingroom. "Anything?" Joshua queried, already knowing the answer as he peered at the dejected faces before him.

"No…nothing. Sam's not here and we've lost two hours," Daniel said as he dropped heavily to the couch, his family looking at him with deep concern.

"You okay, Danny?" Dean asked, sitting down next to his brother and checking the wound on his neck left by a piece of broken glass from the picture window.

Daniel brushed Dean's hand away, growling as he stood again. "I'm fine, Dean…it's Sam we need to worry about!"

"Boys…" John snapped tiredly, his bloodshot eyes resting on his two sons.

"Sorry, Dad…" both boys said in unison.

"So…what do we do now? We have no idea where Sammy is and he's running out of time, what ever that means," Caleb said.

"Uh…I think I know where Sam is," Bobby's voice sounded from the diningroom.

The other hunters and the doctor turned their expectant gazes to the eldest hunter, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Okay, Gregory said you've been wherever Sam is before," Bobby started.

"Yeah…that really cuts down the field now doesn't it?" Dean said sarcastically.

Bobby merely glanced at Dean before continuing. "Gregory also said that Sam was getting what his son got."

"Bobby, we don't have time for this crap. So far, nothing that you've gone over helps us find Sammy. Unless I'm missing something," John said with frustration.

"I think that Randy took Sam to where this whole mess began," Bobby said.

"Palo Alto? Why would he take Sam there?" Dean asked.

"Not Palo Alto…Boulder Colorado, where David Gregory was killed. Think about it. David was nineteen…Sam is nineteen. David died at the Gregory country estate near Boulder. David is buried…"

"Oh sh*t! You don't think?" Daniel started, all color draining from his face.

"What? He doesn't think what!?" Dean cried, completely lost as he stared at his brother.

"Bobby thinks that Randy Gregory took Sam to Boulder and that he…that he…" Daniel stammered.

Dean paled as he finally got it. "He buried him. You think he buried him, don't you? Somewhere dark…that's what Gregory said. Some place that we've been…somewhere dark. Oh God…ohgodohgodohgod," Dean cried, his eyes going wide as he paced the floor.

"He only has…six hours now. Six hours of oxygen? We have to get to Boulder!" John cried, already moving to the door.

"John, what if Bobby's wrong?" Frank queried nervously.

"It's the only thing we've got. It makes sense. Bring Sam back to where it all began. The only thing that I don't get is Gregory said he's not alone. What does that mean?" John said, sudden fear turning his blood to ice.

"But, if we're wrong…Sam'll be out of time and…we won't find him…alive," Daniel said softly.

"Well, then we can't be wrong," Dean replied, his eyes falling on his retreating father.

The other hunters looked worriedly at each other before they followed John out the door. Bobby climbed into the Impala with John and his boys, while Joshua and Frank climbed into Caleb's SUV. With John behind the wheel, he peeled out of the drive and tore down the road, a destination finally in sight.

"Dad?" Daniel queried nervously.

"What, Danny?" John answered, his eyes gazing into the rearview mirror.

"How far is it from Moab to Boulder?" Daniel answered, a large knot in his stomach.

"Uh…about 370 miles," John replied, already knowing what Daniel was thinking.

"How long before we get there?" Dean asked, his eyes moving between his father and brother.

John paled as he looked across the bench seat to his middle son. "Six hours…give or take," he answered, his heart dropping at his son's devastated faces.

"Dad…drive faster…" Daniel said, his eyes turning to stare out the front window.

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Sam awoke, shaking his head to clear the horrible nightmare from his head. He turned from on his side, wondering why the bed beneath him was so hard. He gazed around, the complete blackness that surrounded him confusing him further.

"Dad?' he called, his arms unwrapping from around his body, hands reaching out to his sides. "Dean…Daniel?"

His right hand hit a flat, hard surface and suddenly Sam realized that his nightmare had not been a nightmare at all. His breath began to hitch as he remembered where he was. It nearly stopped when he remembered his coffin mate. He snatched his left hand back when it hit the bones of David Gregory's arm, the young man crying out in revulsion. He reached his hand up to his face, his fingers brushing over the oxygen mask that was in place over his mouth and nose. He let his head fall to the hard surface beneath him as tears welled in his eyes. He didn't know how long he had been asleep, but it really didn't matter. He'd only had eight hours to begin with, according to Randy Gregory, and now he had less. His life was in his family's hands, and he was pretty certain they had no idea where he was.

Sam let his hands search the coffin until he found the flashlight near his right hip. He pushed the button, his prison immediately illuminated. Trying as hard as he could to ignore the corpse beside him, Sam shone the light around the wooden box, his heart sinking as he realized he was well and truly buried. There were small piles of dirt on the floor of the coffin where it had sifted through the seams, leaving no doubt that Sam was buried. Sam closed his eyes, trying to slow his rapidly accelerated breathing. He couldn't lose it now. He needed to conserve the oxygen he had. He had to give his family a fighting chance to find him.

Sam knew without a doubt that his family would be desperately searching for him. Randy Gregory had told him that he had given clues to them as to where to find him, but he doubted the man had made it easy for them. He didn't know where he was, and in truth, he hadn't known where he was to begin with. He had woken up at Frank's clinic, but had never been told where it was. He'd also never been told the whole story of Randy Gregory, including where the hunt had taken place. He figured he was where it had all gone down, due to the fact that he shared his coffin with David Gregory. Sam shuddered at the thought that Randy Gregory had dug up his son's body for the sole purpose of reburying it with him. The man was beyond demented. As sorry as Sam felt for the man, having witnessed his son being killed, he still hoped that his family would find him and make the man pay for what he'd done. He felt guilty for feeling that way, but at the moment he really didn't care. He had been made to lose his mind, his sight and his hearing. He'd nearly died from a brain infection, and now he was buried alive with the body of a werewolf, all because Randy Gregory wanted revenge.

Sam's heart began to pound in his chest as the walls of his box seemed to suddenly begin to close in around him. He whimpered as panic washed over him, his breaths coming in short gasps. He tried to calm himself, but the enormity of his situation slammed into him, his chest feeling as if it were being crushed under the tons of earth that covered the coffin he was in. He knew that it was a distinct possibility that the earth very well could crush the box, thus crushing him and he would die an excrutiatingly painful death. Sam cried out as the images assaulted him and he suddenly began to pound on the ceiling of the box, screaming at the top of his lungs for someone, anyone to help him. For anyone to free him from the living nightmare he was living.

After what seemed like hours, Sam finally began to calm, more from exhaustion than anything. His struggles weakened as his body gave in to the exhaustion. His voice was hoarse from screaming, and soon his screams turned to sobs as he realized the futility of his actions. Nobody was going to find him. Nobody was going to rescue him. If his family ever did find him, they would find a dead body. He sobbed even harder as he imagined that scene. His devastated family as they pulled his cold, limp body from his grave. The looks on their faces as his wrapped body went up in flames. To Sam, his death would almost be a relief, but he could never give in. Not when he knew what it would do to his family. Unfortunately, he didn't think this time it would matter whether he fought to live or not. He only had a few more hours of air and then there would be no fight left in him. But, he vowed he would fight to live as best as he could, if only so his family would see that he tried…for them.

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Randy Gregory stood over the fresh grave, his eyes glued to the mounded earth. He could hear Sam's screams and pounding. There was only about two feet of earth piled on the coffin, so the sounds from within could be heard, low and muffled, but still loud enough to be heard. He felt a momentary twinge of guilt as he listened to the terrified screams. He imagined his David being the one screaming for help and he almost picked up the shovel, but then he saw the body of his son on the floor of their country home. His naked body, bloody and cold. Then, he saw it as it looked when he had dug it up. He stood straight, a cold sneer on his lips. This boy's family had destroyed his family. He deserved no mercy. He may not have been there that night, but he was still the son of a hunter. It was in his blood, and Randy Gregory had not doubts that if the boy hadn't already killed, he would eventually. He justified himself that he was keeping the boy from becoming a killer like his family, or punishing him for already becoming one.

The man lowered himself to the ground, listening to the continued pounding and screaming coming from the ground. He settled in, smiling as the sounds lessened until he could hear them no more. He knew the boy was still alive, terrified, but alive. He still had several hours of air left. Plenty of time to think about why he was there. Plenty of time to curse his family for putting him there, for allowing him to be taken and put into this situation.

Gregory scooted over to a nearby tree and leaned against it. He would wait for the Winchesters and their friends. He knew that they would kill him, but he was certain it wouldn't be until after they had dug up their precious Sammy. He would get to see the devastation on their faces before they killed him and that was all that mattered to him. He would die anyway, whether they killed him or not. As long as he knew that he had succeeded in bringing the Winchesters to their knees, that he had destroyed them like they had destroyed him, then he would die willingly, happily. He settled in, a smile curling his lips. He knew they were too far away to save the boy. He knew he would be the victor and he couldn't wait for them to get here. Couldn't wait to see them as they crumbled, their whole world gone with the boy buried beneath the earth.

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**Well, that's it for now. More to come. Take care all!!**

**Cindy.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Geez guys, I'm sorry for the delay on this. I just couldn't get past one stupid sentence! I finally managed to break through the brick wall that was holding me back. The chapter isn't very long, but I hope it satisfies just the same. Here it is.**

**Cindy.**

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_"Dad…drive faster…"_

John looked in the review mirror at his eldest son while at the same time he pushed his foot onto the gas pedal, the Impala's tires spinning in the gravel before they finally found purchase, the car taking off leaving Caleb and the others in it's dust. The car fishtailed for a moment before it straightened out and it was on the highway within minutes, Caleb just a few minutes behind. The two vehicle's headlights cut a trail through the darkness, the occupants of both thinking of only one thing. Getting to Boulder and finding their most precious family member. They only had about six hours to reach Sam before his air ran out, and the drive to Boulder was normally a six hour drive. That left no time to find where Randy Gregory had buried the youngest Winchester and free him from the grave. The only way they had any chance of saving Sam was if they broke every speed law between Moab and Boulder. John had no problem with that, but the highway patrol officers that they may run into may not appreciate their need for speed, and it wasn't like they could tell the cops why they were speeding. How would they possibly be able to explain to them about their need to reach Boulder as quickly as possible?

John shook his head, his eyes glued to the highway before him. He would just have to take the chance. Sam needed them to get there before his time ran out. The kid was already weak from his battle with the demon inflicted encephalitis, and John was certain that Sam had very little fight left in him. There was no question, they needed to reach Boulder in five hours or less if they were going to save Sam and John was prepared to do anything he had to to do just that.

"Dad? We're going to save him, aren't we?" Dean queried from beside him, his voice shaking with fear.

"I'm going to do everything in my power to reach your brother in time, Dean. I'm not going to let that crazy bastard take him from us," John replied as he reached across the seat and squeezed his middle son's shoulder.

Dean nodded and turned his eyes out the windshield. It was going to be a long, nerve wracking drive that would hopefully end in Sam being safely back in their care where he belonged. Dean narrowed his eyes, thinking of all of the things he would do to Randy Gregory when he got his hands on him. The man had crossed a line that no one should ever cross if they wanted to live. Michael Wilcox had crossed it, then his son Trenton had. Both of them were dead, as Randy Gregory soon would be. There was no way that the man would live, no way that he would be shown any mercy. He had broken the cardinal Winchester rule. He had dared to hurt Sam, had dared to threaten his life. He had stolen the boy away from them and taunted them with his impending death. If the man wanted to die, he had certainly made sure that it would happen.

Dean tried to find any ounce of compassion for the man. He had afterall witnessed what no parent should have to, but to do what he did? To take an innocent boy and curse him, then kidnap him and bury him alive, which they were all certain was what had been done to Sam, was unforgivable. No, any compassion he may have had for the man went out the window when he thought about his sweet baby brother buried beneath the earth, terrified and wondering if he would die there, unable to breath, never to see his family again. Dean suddenly slammed his fisted hand into the passenger door, beating it over and over as the rage overtook him. Tears of frustration fell from his eyes as he continued to pound the door, his heart pounding mercilessly in his chest. A firm touch to his shoulder brought him back and he stopped hitting the door as he turned to see the concerned face of his older brother.

"Dean…we'll get to him in time. I know what you're feeling. Randy Gregory will pay for what he's done, little brother," Daniel said softly, his compassionate eyes gazing intently at his brother.

"I know, Danny. I just…I…I picture Sammy and he's got to be so scared, you know? He's all alone and he's probably thinking there's no way we're going to find him. He was still so sick…" Dean said, the young man stopping as more tears threatened to fall.

Daniel's eyes welled, his own thoughts and feelings mirroring Dean's. He felt lost, not knowing for sure if Sam was okay or if he was even still alive. He feared that Gregory may be lying and that Sam was either already dead or that he didn't have the amount of time that the man said he did. Daniel feared that when they did find Sam, it would be too late and that was something that he just wouldn't be able to live with. He and his family had sworn to keep Sam safe after what had happened the last two years and they had failed miserably. And even worse than that was that he was suffering for what they had done. Sam had done nothing to warrant the torture he was enduring. Daniel's emotions finally got the best of him and he collapsed against the seat back, his hands covering his face as he silently wept. He felt Bobby grab his arm and squeeze and after a few moments he was able to pull himself together. He took his hands away from his face and glanced over at his older friend. Bobby's face held so much compassion that it made the young man nearly cry again.

"Danny…Dean," the grizzled hunter started, his gaze shifting from one brother to the other. "I truly believe that Sam is still alive. I know you may be thinking that Gregory could be lying, but I don't think so. He wants us to find Sam, of that I'm sure. And, I think with as deranged as he's become, he wants us to come close to finding him in time. He knows what it would do to you all if you came within minutes of saving Sam, only to fail. All we need to do is make it to Boulder in as close to five hours as possible. We're going to save Sam. There's just no other option."

Daniel gazed gratefully at the hunter beside him, thankful for his strength, comfort and clear thinking. The Winchester men prided themselves on their ability to remain calm in very stressful situations, but all of that went south when Sam was involved and in danger. They could even keep their heads on straight when it was one of them, but when it was Sammy it was a totally different story. He was their heart and soul. He was their baby. He was what kept them going. At the end of the day it really wasn't about avenging their mother's death as much as it was about avenging the loss of Sam's childhood, of his right to have known his mother. Sure, they had lost their childhoods too, but they had at least known a normal childhood before everything went dark. They had known their mother, had bonded with her and would always have that bond to hold onto. Sam had been too young to build that bond. He had been denied that wonderful gift. Daniel was pulled from his thoughts when his father's tired, gravely voice sounded.

"Boys…Bobby's right. We are not going to fail. We are going to find Sammy and he's going to be just fine. We need to believe that, okay? We can't lose faith now. Sammy needs us to keep it together. Can you do that for him?"

Dean and Daniel looked at each other before gazing at their father. They both nodded. They would hold it together for their brother. They had plenty of time to lose it after they had Sam back and Randy Gregory was taken care of, once and for all. The Impala sped on through the night, Caleb's SUV right on it's tail. Nothing would keep the hunters from reaching their destination in time. Nothing would keep them from finding Sam and bringing him home where he belonged.

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Sam's hands covered his eyes, the boy crying as despair washed over him. He could tell his time was running out. The oxygen tank was nearly empty and he was already finding it harder and harder to breath freely. His body was bathed in sweat, the coffin having turned into a sauna from his body heat. He no longer thought about nor cared about the corpse that shared his prison. The only thing that he could think about now was his family. He was certain that they wouldn't find him in time. When they did find him, and he was certain that they eventually would, it would be a dead body that they would see. Sam couldn't bear to think about what that would do to them. He knew what it would do to him if he lost one of them.

Sam dropped his hands from his face, his bloodshot eyes staring through the darkness, the flashlight dying out some time ago. He wished he had some way to leave his family a message, to let them know that it was okay to go on without him. He hated the fact that he was going to die without having been able to say goodbye. A sob escaped him at the thought of his impending death. He didn't want to die, but he knew that it was out of his hands. As the certainty of his death settled over him, he softly began to pray.

"Lord…I ask you to keep my family safe. Please help them to deal with my death and help them to understand that what has happened to me isn't their fault. Please give them the strength to continue their mission to help people, to save them from the evils of this world. I also ask that you forgive Randy Gregory for what he has done. I do not hate him, Lord…I pity him and hope that he can some day find peace. I ask nothing for myself, but to die painlessly. I ask all of this through Christ our Lord…Amen."

Sam lay still as the night, his thoughts drifting as he accepted his fate. He could feel the air coming through the mask lessening and knew it wouldn't be much longer. He maybe had another hour at the most. He smiled as his thoughts drifted to his mother and to Alisa. He would hopefully get to see them soon and that was the one bright spot in all of this. With this thought in mind, Sam drifted off to sleep, acutely aware that he would probably never wake again.

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Randy Gregory stood watch over the fresh grave, his eyes flicking to the watch that adorned his wrist. It wouldn't be long now. Sam Winchester would soon be dead and his revenge would be complete. He was somewhat disappointed that the Winchesters hadn't shown up. He still held some hope that they would make it in time to almost save their precious Sammy. He so longed to see the despair and grief on their faces, to hear their tortured cries at having been so close to saving him only to lose him by mere minutes. It was looking like that wouldn't happen though so he had to just be happy that at least he would get to see them as they dug their boy up. He would get to witness their reaction when they realized that through their actions, they had lost the light in their life.

A faint rumble brought the man out of his musings and he cocked his head, hoping to hear the sound again. He smiled as he realized what he was hearing. The Winchesters had arrived at his house and would soon be breaking through the trees, the shovels that he had left conspicuously in sight, in their hands. He would watch from the hiding place he had found as they dug furiously in their attempt to save the boy. He gazed at his watch again, smiling as he knew they wouldn't reach Sam in time. They had made it from Utah to Colorado in record time, but he had been off by a bit when he had told them Sam had eight hours of air. He may have been just a bit off in his calculations.

Randy could hear faint sounds of voices calling through the night and he backed away into the trees, taking his place in the cover they provided. Soon he would realize his revenge. Sam Winchester would lie dead in his family's arms and they would be ruined, torn apart by their grief. They would never recover, of that Randy Gregory was certain. He would then be able to join his wife and son on the other side.

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**That's it for now. I'm going to be on vacation for the next two weeks, but am taking my laptop with me wherever I go, so I'll still be working on this story. I hope you will let me know what you think. Love to you all.**

**Cindy.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks to you all! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I have the next one ready for you. See, I told you my vacation wouldn't interfere with posting! LOL Are you all ready for a rescue? Okay then...here we go!**

**Cindy.**

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The Impala came to a halt just outside the closed gate of the country home of Randy Gregory. The rumble of the engine died out as the key was turned off. The doors creaked as the four men crawled stiffly from the vehicle, turning as Caleb's SUV pulled up behind them.

"We'll go on foot from here," John instructed, his eyes gazing over the darkened forest.

The men nodded and moved to their vehicles, retrieving weapons and anything else they thought they would need. Once they were set they scaled the gate and took off toward the large house. As they passed, Caleb and Bobby broke off toward the house as the rest of the hunters ran around the side of the house. The two hunters pushed through the unlocked front door, their mission…to find Randy Gregory. John led the remaining hunters around the house, Dean and Joshua grabbing hold of two shovels that were perched against the back corner. They made their way silently into the treeline, John moving with graceful speed, his destination already known to him. He figured Randy Gregory would bury Sam near where they had buried David Gregory. He could only pray that he was right. It only took a few minutes for them to break through the trees into the small clearing where several months ago, they had salt and burned the dead body of the young man, then hurriedly buried him.

John stopped and pulled out his flashlight. He shone the light around the clearing and sucked in a quick breath when the light moved over a fresh mound of earth on the other side of the clearing. John, his sons and Joshua wasted no time as they sped across the clearing, coming to a stop at the edge of the loose earth. Dean immediately began to dig, looking up briefly as Daniel rounded the mound and started to dig on the other end. John got on his hands and knees and began to frantically claw at the dirt, mentally calculating in his mind how much time Sam had left, and it wasn't much. He dug faster, his need to get his baby free from the ground overwhelming him. Joshua moved in and tried to take the shovel from Dean's hands to allow the young man to rest, but Dean just pulled away from him, refusing to release the shovel into his friend's hands. Joshua moved opposite John and knelt down before he too began to dig in the dirt with his hands. This was his family and he could not stand back and watch as they worked feverishly to save the youngest. They dug for several minutes before Bobby and Caleb crashed through the trees, their flashlights further illuminating the clearing. They moved to the grave and held their lights steady, watching as the four hunters dug furiously.

"The bastard wasn't there, Johnny," Bobby said as he stood behind his friend. "The coward probably buried Sammy and then left."

"No…he's here somewhere. He'll want to see us bring Sammy up, hoping we'll be bringing him up dead," John said, sounding breathless from exertion.

Bobby and Caleb looked around at the trees, squinting their eyes into the darkness and wondering if indeed the bastard was out there, watching them. They turned their attention back to the frantic scene before them, the hunters moving at breakneck speed to get to Sam. John leaned down close to the ground, pausing his digging to yell into the hole they had dug.

"We're here, Sammy! You hold on son…you hold on for us! We'll have you out of there in no time! We're coming, Sam!" he screamed before he resumed digging, his actions becoming more frantic the deeper the hole became.

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Sam came awake with a gasp, his confused eyes staring wide into the blackness that surrounded him. He tried to pull in air, but found it extremely difficult. He let out a soft whimper as he realized that the tank had finally run out of air. He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought that he only had minutes now to live. He reached up and pulled the oxygen mask from his face, slow tears trailing down his fevered cheeks. His mouth gaped open as he tried to draw in air, but there just wasn't any left to breathe. He gasped and wheezed, his lungs beginning to burn at the lack of adequate oxygen. He turned his head slowly when he thought he heard a muffled, familiar voice. The voice didn't come again and Sam figured it was his mind playing tricks on him, the lack of oxygen causing him to hallucinate.

Sam couldn't keep the tears from coming as he waited for the end to come. He had truly hoped that his family would find him in time. He was awash in anguish that he would never see his father or brothers again. He loved them so dearly, as he did his 'uncles'. Sam's hands fell to his sides as his body weakened. He continued to gasp softly, his chest hitching as it struggled to pull in air. His eyes slowly closed, his chest ceasing to move just as a loud thud sounded on the top of the coffin and frantic voices sounded from above, screaming his name over and over.

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Dean and Daniel dug like the survival of the entire world depended on them to get to that coffin. And truly it did. Their entire world did depend on just that. Their entire world lay in that box, no doubt terrified and thinking that they wouldn't be saving him this time. So, the world may not know about how important it was for them to get to that boy in the box, may not know the name Sam Winchester, but that didn't matter in the least to them. The most important person in this world lay just a few feet beneath them and they would not fail to reach him in time. They would not fail him this time. Not like they already had. Failure was not an option. Failure meant that their world would come to an end. So, they dug and they dug until suddenly Daniel's shovel hit something harder than dirt. He looked up, a shocked look on his face, the other hunter's eyes widening before all of them sprang into action.

"Sammy! Sammy…we're here! We're here, little brother…we're here!" Dean screamed as his digging became even more frantic, the shovel now clearing as much earth from the coffin as possible.

Daniel glanced up at his younger brother for a second before he too began to furiously clear the dirt away. John and Joshua began to clear the earth away from the edges of the coffin, both men wondering at the width of the box.

"Why the hell is it so wide?" Caleb asked from behind them, voicing the question that the digging men had kept to themselves.

"I don't know, but I don't like it," John said breathlessly.

Daniel dropped his shovel and dropped to his knees, starting to clear the dirt with his hands now. "Sammy! Hang on! We're almost there, kiddo…we're almost to you!" he screamed, his fingers beginning to bleed as rocks dug into his flesh.

Finally, enough earth was cleared away and they were able to see where to reach to open the coffin. Both Dean and Daniel grasped the edge of the lid with their fingers and pulled up the lid holding tight until finally it gave and lifted up, revealing the still figures inside. The hunters gasped as they gazed down into the coffin in shock, none of the man able to move as their brains attempted to comprehend what their eyes were seeing.

"Oh…my…God…" Daniel whispered, his dark eyes wide.

"Sammy…" John said, finally springing into action and reaching into the box to grasp his baby's arms, pulling the still, limp form up.

Dean dropped down into the box, his arms going under Sam's armpits and helping to lift his brother. Sam's limbs flopped uselessly as Daniel reached down for his legs, his head lolling back, hair hanging listlessly from his bobbing head. The other men moved into action, helping the Winchesters hoist the dead weight of their youngest, then lowering him gently to the ground. Sam's lips were a sickening shade of blue and Daniel felt bile rise in his throat as he stared down at the lifeless form of his baby brother.

"That son of a bitch!" Bobby's gravely voice hissed. "He buried Sammy with the corpse of his son."

"That's what he meant when he said Sam wouldn't be alone. The sick bastard!" Caleb seethed.

John spared one glance at his friends before moving to grasp Sam behind his neck, lifting until Sam's head was tilted back. He made sure that Sam's airway was clear before he fitted his mouth over Sam's and began to push air into his baby's starving lungs. He pulled away after a few moments and looked at Dean. Dean nodded and began to compress Sam's chest, counting the compressions as he urged his brother's heart to start beating.

"Come on, Sammy…don't give up, kiddo. Come on…"

Together the two Winchesters continued their attempts to bring the youngest of their family back to them…John breathing for the boy, while Dean pumped his chest. They worked frantically on the boy, Dean wincing when he felt a rib give beneath his hands. John prayed for Sam's chest to begin to move on it's own, his own chest aching when each time he looked for the movement, he was met with a still chest.

"Sammy…please…please don't do this, son…please come back to us…"

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Randy Gregory watched the scene in the clearing from his hiding spot in the dense trees. He had donned night vision goggles so that he wouldn't miss a single moment of the Winchester's fall. He watched as they dug furiously to free their youngest from his prison, watched as they finally succeeded in lifting the lid of the coffin, only to find that they were too late. Randy Gregory couldn't help the snicker that escaped him as John and Dean worked feverishly to revive the boy, their attempts to bring him back failing miserably. He reveled in the pain and anguish he saw on all of the hunters faces as they began to realize that their precious Sammy wasn't coming back to them. Everything was falling into place. Tonight he would see the world end for the Winchesters and then his plan for revenge would be complete.

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"Sammy…please…please don't do this, son…please come back to us…" John pled as he watched Dean do compressions.

Dean stopped and John took over with mouth to mouth, his mouth once again covering Sam's and forcing air into the boy's lungs. He pulled away and Dean was just about to start compressions again when Sam gasped, his back arching up from the ground, chest heaving as he gulped in much needed air.

"Sammy! Oh my God…Sammy…that's it…breathe!" Daniel cried out, tears streaming down his face, the sight of Sam struggling for air the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen because if he was struggling, he was still alive.

John grabbed Sam and pulled him up, pulling his baby into his arms and rubbing his back, speaking words of encouragement into the boy's ear. Sam's body began to tremble and suddenly five hunters were removing their jackets and covering the boy, each one raging at the indignity that Gregory had bestowed upon the kid by leaving him naked. John pulled Sam closer to his chest, Dean and Daniel moving in to whisper words of encouragement to their baby brother. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out and the hunters jerked around to see a deranged, seething Randy Gregory standing at he edge of the trees, his wild eyes firmly planted on the still unconscious youngest Winchester, his gun aimed right at the young man's head.

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"Give it up, Johnny…the little brat is dead and there's nothing you can do to bring him back," Randy Gregory whispered gleefully as he watched the painful scene in the clearing.

He watched, a cold smile on his lips as John and Dean alternated between giving Sam mouth to mouth and CPR. His smile widened as Sam's body jerked with each chest compression, his family becoming more disheartened as none of their efforts seemed to be paying off. Suddenly, the boy gasped and Gregory's smile faded, the sight of the youngest Winchester actually taking in wheezing breaths destroying all of his hard work, taking his moment of glory away from him.

"No…this isn't supposed to happen. The little fucker is supposed to be dead…this isn't going to happen," he snarled as he backed out of his hiding spot, his hand reaching to his back and pulling a handgun from the band of his jeans.

Randy Gregory made his way through the trees and underbrush, his weapon drawn and ready. Sam Winchester was supposed to die, and he would make sure that was exactly what happened. He reached the edge of the trees and lifted his arm into the air, pulling the trigger on his gun, startling the gathered hunters, gaining their full attention as the shot rang out. He trained his eyes and gun on Sam, not needing to look at the other hunters, knowing that he had their undivided attention.

"Put the boy down, John," Gregory demanded, his gaze finally leaving Sam to look the eldest Winchester straight in the eyes.

"Go to Hell you son of a bitch!" John hissed, pulling Sam even tighter to his chest.

Dean and Daniel instinctively moved until they were blocking the deranged man's view of their brother. Randy Gregory narrowed his eyes as he now trained his gun right between Daniel's eyes.

"Move away from the boy. The little bastard isn't worth dying for," he snarled, his gaze shifting to the three hunters who stood near the Winchesters, obviously itching to get at him.

"He's more than worth dying for you fucked up piece of crap!" Dean hissed, his eyes shifting to his older brother nervously.

"Fine…I guess one more dead Winchester won't hurt anything," Gregory said as he began to pull back on the trigger.

Suddenly, a loud clang sounded and the man dropped bonelessly to the ground, the gun dropping from his fingers to rest harmlessly in the grass. The six hunters looked up with wide shocked eyes to see Frank standing behind where Randy Gregory had just stood, a shovel of his own held tightly in his hands. He gave them a crooked smile before dropping the shovel and rushing to the Winchesters, falling to his knees and gently pulling Sam slightly away from John's chest so that he could check on the boy. Joshua and Caleb moved to the fallen man and roughly turned him over, smiling at the blood that trailed down his pale cheek from his hairline. They looked up, watching intently as Frank checked Sam over, the boy still having not regained consciousness.

"We need to get him to a motel so I can examine him better. He seems to be breathing okay, and his pulse is strong, if a bit erratic," the doctor stated.

"We could just move him to the house," Bobby suggested.

"No! I won't have him in that man's house. We'll find a motel," John said, once again pulling Sam tight to his chest and straining to lift the boy from the ground.

Dean and Daniel rushed to help John to his feet, then helped adjust Sam in his arms, Daniel moving Sam's head to rest in the crook of John's neck. Dean wrapped the various jackets around Sam's body, the boy shivering from the cool pre-dawn air.

"Johnny, what are we gonna do with this piece of trash?" Caleb called.

John looked over at his friends, then to the man on the ground at their feet. As he was about to speak, Gregory began to moan. The man came awake and pushed himself up with his arms. He looked at John and his sons, his eyes glazed over. Caleb and Joshua backed away from the man when Daniel and Dean started forward. Gregory shakily pushed to his feet, a cold smile curling his lips.

"It doesn't matter…I'll get to the little fucker eventually," he snarled.

Dean growled deep in his throat before he sprang forward, his fist connecting with the startled man's face. Gregory stumbled back, Joshua and Caleb grabbing him so that he wouldn't fall. They held him tight as Dean stalked toward him, Daniel following right behind. The man smiled defiantly up at the brothers, his lips stained red from his blood.

"Sam's done nothing to you. He's never hurt anybody," Dean hissed as he leaned in to bring his face within inches of the detested man's.

"He's a slimy little piece of shit, just like the rest of you. It's only a matter of time before he becomes what you already are!" Gregory spat, spitting blood into Dean's face.

Daniel pushed past his brother and drove his fist into the man's already battered face. He grasped his hair and pulled his head up, Gregory turning pain filled eyes onto the eldest Winchester sibling. "You'll never speak of my brother or the rest of my family like that again. We saved you! We saved your son!"

"You killed my son!"

"No…we saved him. The son that you knew died the day he was bitten. He would have lived a cursed life. We saved him from that. We saved countless lives," Daniel hissed as he held firm to the man's hair.

Gregory curled his lip as he stared hatefully into Daniel's eyes. "I don't care how many people would have died as long as I had my son with me. Nobody else matters," he said coldly.

Dean stepped up beside his brother, Gregory's eyes moving to him. "You're a pathetic little piece of garbage. He killed your wife…his own mother! He ripped her to shreds. How could you still believe he was the son you knew?"

Randy Gregory's face suddenly dropped, his eyes turning sad in an instant. "He was all I had left. Don't you see…he was all I had left…"

Dean shook his head then turned to his father. "Dad…what are we going to do with him?"

John looked down at his unconscious son then up to the man who had hurt him. His voice was cold as he replied. "Let him be with his son." With that, John turned and walked away, Sam held protectively against him.

Dean turned back to the man held tight between Caleb and Joshua. He gazed at his brother beside him before turning once again to the man who had caused his baby brother so much pain. Without a second thought, he let his fist fly again, slamming it into the man's face and jerking his head back with rage fueled violence. Randy Gregory gasped before he fell limp in the arms of the hunters, the men staggering slightly under his dead weight. Dean looked up at them then stared coldly at the unconscious man between them.

"You heard Dad. Let him be with his son," he said before turning and walking away.

Daniel spared one glance before he too turned and followed his brother across the clearing, leaving Caleb, Joshua and Bobby to take care of the man who had caused them so much grief.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Randy Gregory came awake slowly, his face throbbing with each beat of his heart. He was surrounded by complete darkness and he began to panic as he could not tell where he was. He suddenly became aware of something over his nose and mouth and reached up to find that he had been fitted with what could only be an oxygen mask. He started to breathe heavily as a deep dark fear fell over him. He reached out his hands, feeling around himself, his heart beating faster and faster as he realized where he was. His fingers fell over something round and hard and he jerked his hand back when he realized it was a bone. His son's bone. He was buried alive, just like Sam had been. There was one big difference between he and Sam Winchester though. There was nobody to come looking for him. There was nobody going to come rescue him at the last minute.

Randy Gregory began to pound on the sides and top of the wooden box that surrounded him, screaming into the oxygen mask, just as Sam had done hours before. He dug at the wood, succeeding at nothing but ripping the skin from his fingertips. Tears flowed from his eyes as he screamed for help, all the while knowing that help would not come for him. He could not stop himself though, the terror and panic overtaking him until there was nothing but the need to get free, to feel fresh air upon his skin.

"Help me! Please…somebody! I'm sorry! Please don't leave me here! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!"

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**So...what do you think? I had originally planned to have RG beaten literally to death but then I thought that he should feel what Sam had felt. I thought that burying him with his son was much worse than beating him to death. I hope you all were satisfied with his demise. Please let me know!**

**Cindy.**


	20. Chapter 20

**I'm back! I have the next chapter ready for you. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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**Mountain Rest Cabins-Just outside Boulder Colorado**

John stood at the window of the small cabin he had rented, his eyes watching for Dean to return in the Impala with Frank and the supplies they needed to get Sam better. He glanced over at the far bed, smiling slightly as he watched his eldest son watching over his youngest. Sam had yet to awaken, and his breathing wasn't sounding as good as it could, but the kid was holding his own for the moment. Dean and Frank had gone into Boulder to the hospital there so that Frank could acquire needed medical supplies, namely oxygen, antibiotics and nutrient rich fluids along with syringes, tubing and everything else they would need to put together their own little hospital right here in the cabin. Frank had done a cursory exam of Sam before he had left and felt that they would be able to deal with his condition without having to take him to a hospital. John was greatly relieved at this news. Sam had been in so many hospitals the past few years and it grieved the eldest Winchester immensely to think of him in yet another one. This way, there would be no curious doctors and nurses, no insurance fraud. They could take care of Sam the way they saw fit without the worry of someone asking dangerous questions or the fraud being found out before Sam had been released. John turned his attention back to the window, knowing that Daniel had the baby of the family covered.

Daniel sat on the edge of Sam's bed, his fingers carding softly through his brother's sweat soaked bangs. He whispered comfortingly to Sam as the younger boy whimpered in his sleep. Daniel knew that Sam was having a nightmare, most likely of his time in the coffin. The poor kid didn't even know that he'd been rescued. He had yet to gain consciousness and Daniel was worried sick about the kid. As much as he wanted Sam to wake up, he knew that once that happened, things would get really interesting. There was no way that Sam was going to just wake up and be happy. He had been through probably the most traumatic experience one could imagine and there was bound to be more nightmares to come. Hell, Sam would be a mess every minute of every day for some time to come. Sam suddenly began to thrash about on the bed, his hands coming up to claw at the air above him as tears squeezed past his closed lids. Strangled cries broke free from his dry lips and it broke Daniel's heart as he realized just what Sam was doing. He was trying to claw his way out of the coffin, just as he had obviously done hours before. His torn fingertips were a testament to that.

"No…please…somebody help me! Dad…oh God…please…I can't breathe…" Sam cried as Daniel held him down, not wanting the boy to hurt himself.

"It's okay, Sammy. You're free…you're safe, kiddo. Please wake up, Sam…please," Daniel pled, looking up with wide eyes as John left his post by the window and rushed to his two sons.

John dropped down on the other side of the bed, his knees hitting the wooden floor as he leaned over the bed and took Sam's face in his hands. He gently turned Sam's head, his thumbs caressing softly over Sam's cheeks.

"I'm here, Sam. It's Dad…I'm here and I'm not going to let anything else happen to you," John cooed, lifting himself up from the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling Sam up and to his chest before softly rocking him back and forth.

Sam began to calm under his family's ministrations and was soon sleeping more peacefully, a few soft whimpers escaping his lips every now and then. His breathing sounded a bit more labored and both John and Daniel prayed that Dean and Frank would arrive soon so that the boy could get some relief. They knew that once Sam began to receive the oxygen and nutrients he needed that he would wake up and they could begin to repair the damage done to the boy by his ordeal. John eased back against the headboard of the bed, the metal framing digging into his back, but he barely noticed the discomfort as he held his baby, happy beyond belief that he had gotten him back, alive and as well as could be expected. Daniel grasped Sam's hand, squeezing it softly as his father rocked the boy back and forth. The men looked up as they heard the rumble of the Impala and they waited for Dean and Frank to enter the cabin so that they could finally get Sam the relief and medical attention he needed.

The door to the cabin opened and Dean, followed by Frank entered the cabin, his eyes going wide as he witnessed his family huddled on the bed, Sam in his father's tight embrace.

"What happened? Is Sammy okay?" Dean cried as he rushed to the bed.

"Nightmare," John whispered as he held his son close.

Dean nodded and moved to stand next to his father. "The guys just pulled up. They'll be in in a minute," he said, John nodding in acknowledgement.

As if on cue, the door opened and Caleb, Bobby and Joshua entered the cabin, their eyes immediately searching for their young comrade.

"How's he doing, Johnny?" Bobby queried as he approached the bed.

"He hasn't woken up yet," John answered, gently moving Sam and lying him down on the bed then moving aside to make room for Frank.

Frank moved to Sam's side and laid his hand on the boy's forehead. Dean handed him the oxygen tank and mask that they had acquired and the doctor made quick work of hooking the tank up and attaching the mask to Sam's face. Frank then picked up the bag he had rested on the floor beside him and pulled out a bag filled with clear liquid. He attached the hook on the top of the bag to the metal headboard then unwound the tubing that was attached to the bag. Next, he wiped Sam's hand clean with an alcohol wipe then inserted an IV port into the vein. He attached the tube to the IV port and turned the valve, allowing the liquid to flow down the tube and into Sam's hand. The doctor pulled out a small glass vial and a syringe from the bag. He filled the syringe and stuck the needle into the port, emptying the contents into Sam's bloodstream.

"The bag is filled with fluids and nutrients that Sam needs," Frank began to explain. "He's a bit dehydrated. The medicine I just injected him with is an antibiotic. I'm afraid of an infection after him being buried with a dead body. I noticed bug bites on him which could have come from insects that had been feeding on the corpse. The antibiotic should take care of any problems that could arise."

"Holy shit," Daniel whispered, his hand squeezing more firmly to his brother's hand.

Frank sat on the edge of the bed and began a thorough examination of the unconscious boy, causing all of the hunters, save John, Dean and Daniel to turn away and allow the boy some privacy. After checking Sam over, top to bottom, Frank covered him with the blanket and stood from the bed.

"So, is he going to be okay, Frank?" John asked, the other hunters turning back around and eyeing the doctor expectantly.

"Physically, I'd say he'll be fine. Now, we don't know for sure how long he was without oxygen so there is always a chance of some sort of damage. We won't know about any of that until Sam wakes up. Emotionally, I think the poor kid is in for a tough time. I've actually witnessed the aftermath of men buried alive and it ain't pretty."

"Sam has us. We'll help him through it, doc," Dean said as he moved to take the doctor's place next to Sam on the bed.

"And he'll need each and everyone of you," Frank said.

Sam once again began to whimper and weakly thrash on the bed, bringing the men's attention to him. Dean and Daniel immediately began to comfort the boy, but this time Sam's nightmare had a firm and terrifying grasp on him. His thrashing became more violent until he was bucking up from the bed, deep keening noises coming from deep in his throat. Dean held his hand down on the mattress as best as he could, not wanting Sam to pull out his IV. Frank hurried to his bag and pulled out another vial of clear liquid. He filled a syringe and stuck the needle directly into Sam's arm, expelling the contents into Sam, the boy beginning to quiet almost immediately. Daniel scooted closer to his brother, carding his fingers through the sleeping boys hair, whispering softly into his ear. After a few minutes, he lay down next to Sam and draped his arm protectively over his abdomen. He continued to whisper into the boy's ear, his words so soft that no one in the room could hear what he was saying. Once they were sure that Sam was resting comfortably, John and the elder hunters quietly left the cabin, leaving the two older brothers to watch over the youngest.

John took one last look over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him, leaving the boys in the cabin. He stepped up to the others as the huddled on the small porch. The men stood silently for awhile, just looking out over the forest, the predawn sky beginning to lighten as the sun made it's move to rise in the eastern sky.

"So, is the bastard taken care of?" John asked, his gaze moving to his friends.

"He's finding out just what Sam went through, just as he deserves," Joshua answered, no remorse or guilt evident in his voice.

"How much time do you think he has?" John queried.

"Uh…it's been what, a little over an hour? I'd say he has forty five minutes left, maybe an hour. That box was pretty big and depending upon how long he stayed unconscious, he may have had two hours of air," Bobby replied, taking of his cap and scratching his head absently.

"If you ask me, he's getting off easy. Sam was down there nearly eight hours," Caleb hissed, his hands fisting at his sides.

"Did you make sure all evidence of Sam was cleared away?" John asked.

"We went through the house, but it looks like the guy brought Sam straight to the grave. He must have had it ready before he had Sam ported there. We found Sam's clothes behind a tree near the grave," Caleb answered.

"Thanks. I don't know what I'd have done without you guys. The boys and me were flailing…" John started.

"Hey…no need to thank us, Johnny. You know how much that boy means to us. All of you as a matter of fact," Bobby said, lightly slugging John's arm.

"Yeah…I know, but still…thanks," John said.

The men took seats on the porch, Joshua and Caleb sitting on the top step of the porch while John and Bobby took the two chairs near the door. Frank sat on the railing, his eyes moving over the assembled hunters. John looked out into the steadily brightening sky, his eyes narrowing as a nagging feeling settled over him. He couldn't help to think that they were forgetting something very important, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of what they could be missing. He figured it was just the stress of the past days. He hadn't slept for God knows how long and was past exhaustion. After several minutes, John rose, pushed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a large key. He handed it to Bobby.

"I got you all a cabin right next door. Go get some sleep. Frank, I'll send one of the boys if we need you," John said, his voice weary.

Bobby took the key and nodded. "You and the boys get some sleep too, Johnny. Sam's gonna need you to be rested," he said.

John smiled then turned and opened the cabin door. He stepped into the cabin and closed the door. He checked the salt lines that he had laid while Dean and Frank were gone then removed his button down shirt and his boots. He walked over to the two beds, smiling at the scene before him. Sam and Daniel lay sleeping on the bed as Dean sat on the side, watching over them both. The middle siblings eyes were drooping, but he valiantly fought to stay awake. John reached down and grasped his shoulder and Dean looked up at him, blinking tiredly.

"Go to bed, Dean. I'll watch over him for now," John instructed, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Dean nodded then turned to his brothers. He softly brushed a stray lock of unruly hair from Sam's forehead then stood and moved to the other bed. He slowly undressed until he was in nothing but his t-shirt and boxers. He pushed under the covers and was asleep the second his head hit the pillow. John straightened the blankets over him then turned the lights down to a low, soft glow. He retrieved a throw blanket from the bottom of the bed and went around Sam's bed, draping the throw over Daniel's sleeping form before he moved across the room and grabbed a chair from the small table in the kitchenette. He set the chair between the two beds and took a seat. He'd wake Daniel in a few hours, but for now he was content to watch his sons sleep, his heart swelling with love as they settled on his youngest. He relaxed back in the chair and lifted his feet, letting the rest on the edge of the bed. As he watched Sam, the feeling that they had forgotten something important returned and John knew that he would get no rest until he remembered what that something was.

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**Well, that's it for now. I hope you all enjoyed that chapter. We're winding down with this story and then I'll start to post the next one. I've added a brief summary of the new story on my profile if you want to check it out. It doesn't have Daniel...sorry...but I do have another story in mind with the three brothers. It actually takes place when the boys are younger. I think Sam will be around 11 or 12. I'm still in the planning stage on that one so it'll be awhile. Anyway, I'll be back with another update just as soon as I have it ready. Take care.**

**Cindy**


	21. Chapter 21

**I'm back with a new chapter! I'm glad that you all enjoyed the last one. Hope this one satisfies too.**

**Cindy.**

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Dawn had broken into full on daylight several hours ago and still Sam slept on, having the occasional outburst as yet another nightmare took hold, leaving his brothers feeling helpless to help him. All they could do was sit by him and offer whatever comfort they could. They caressed his arms and his hair and spoke softly to him, encouraging him to wake up. Pleading with him to come back to them so that he could begin to heal, with their help of course. John had taken Dean's place on the other bed and was now softly snoring away while his elder sons took care of the youngest. The brothers were becoming increasingly impatient to have their brother awake so that they could tell for themselves that he was okay, at least physically.

"Come on, Sammy. It's time to wakey, wakey," Dean pled, his fingers carding through Sam's hair.

Daniel looked across the bed at his brother then back down to his baby brother. He clasped Sam's hand and squeezed it gently, hoping to get some sort of response. Both brothers straightened as Sam began to softly moan and his eyelids began to flutter. They glanced at each other before turning their attention back to Sam.

"That's it, Sammy. Wake up," Daniel coached, rubbing his thumb over Sam's palm.

Sam began to murmur as he became more and more agitated. Suddenly, his eyes shot open and he started clawing at the oxygen mask on his face. "Noooo!! Please…let me out! Dad! Help me…help me!" he screamed as his brothers fought to keep him from hurting himself.

Sam's eyes were wide, his pupil's taking up most of the space, the iris's nearly unnoticeable. His gaze flitted frantically around the room, but it appeared as though he wasn't seeing anything or anyone. He continued to scream, clawing at the mask and at the air above him, fingers digging into a phantom wooden lid just as they had done mere hours earlier to the real thing. Suddenly, John appeared, jumping on the end of the bed and scrambling up to grab hold of Sam's arms, his normally gruff voice whispering softly, trying to get through to his terrified teen.

"Sammy…it's Dad. You're safe, son. Please…wake up. Your brothers and I are here and we aren't going to let anything else happen to you. Wake up, Sam…please…" John pled as he pulled Sam to him, pulling the mask from his face before cupping the back of his head, keeping Sam facing him.

It took a few moments, but eventually Sam's eyes cleared and he stared into his father's eyes, his pupils receding until the family could finally see the beautiful hazel iris's. Sam reached up a trembling hand and touched his father's face, his fingers ghosting tentatively over one craggy cheek.

"D-Dad?" the boy whispered shakily.

"Yeah, Sammy…it's me," John said softly, a relieved smile curling his lips.

Sam just sat and stared, his eyes moving over his father's face then to either side where his brothers flanked him. Tears welled and he suddenly lunged forward, his arms wrapping around Johns back, his body wracked by sobs. John wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him close, his comforting voice cooing into Sam's ear as the boy cried.

"It's okay, Sammy. You're safe now…we're here," John said softly.

"I-I thought…I didn't think y-you'd find me…" Sam cried, his tears wetting the material of John's shirt where his face was nuzzled to the crook of John's neck.

"Oh, Sammy…of course we found you. I'm so sorry it took us so long, kiddo," John comforted, his voice shaky with emotion.

Sam sat back a bit, his gaze falling on John's face. His eyes were bright with tears, his cheeks wet and flushed. "D-Don't be sorry, D-Dad. You saved me," he whispered before laying his head back on John's shoulder, his body sinking into his father's embrace.

Dean and Daniel watched the scene, both men fighting valiantly to keep their own tears at bay. Daniel reached forward and began to rub Sam's back, the young losing his battle as tears spilled over his lids to trail down his cheeks. He glanced over at Dean, seeing that the middle brother too had lost the battle. The middle brother had one hand resting on Sam's shoulder as the other hand brushed at his tears. Dean let go and stood up. He gathered Sam's pillows and stacked them next to the headboard. John looked up and nodded then gently pushed Sam back, guiding his youngest son until the boy was nestled against the pillows, his trembling hands falling to his lap.

Dean moved to the door, turning to look back at his family, smiling as John and Daniel fussed over Sam, rearranging pillows and evening out his blankets. "I'm going to go fetch Frank…I'll be right back," he said, opening the door and stepping through when John waved at him.

John turned back from the door, his attention once more fully on his youngest son. "How's your breathing, Sammy? Do you need the mask back on?"

"No! I-I mean…no, I'm fine," Sam whispered, his eyes falling to his lap, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Sam, you don't need to be embarrassed. We understand," Daniel said softly, his fingers moving up to brush a few stray strands of unruly hair from Sam's eyes.

Sam looked up at his brother and smiled slightly. "Thanks, Danny," he said sheepishly.

Daniel ruffled Sam's hair, smiling warmly at his baby brother. Suddenly, his eyes filled again and he hurriedly lifted his hand to brush the tears away before they could fall.

"Wh-what's wrong, Danny?" Sam asked, his hoarse voice filled with concern.

"It's…we…we thought we'd lost you, Sammy. When we…when we pulled you out of that…that…" Daniel stammered, his voice trembling harshly. "You weren't breathing…your heart…was stopped. We couldn't…it took forever before you were breathing again."

Sam reached toward his brother and cupped his neck, pulling the older brother to him. "I'm okay now, Danny. I'm alive…because of all of you. Please…don't cry," he softly pled.

Daniel pulled back and smiled as he nodded his head. He leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on Sam's forehead before pulling away once again. He looked at John, noticing how his father's eyes shone bright. He couldn't help but think what a bunch of emo girls they'd all become. What nearly losing Sam yet again had brought out in them. John smiled knowingly and lifted himself up from where he still sat straddling Sam's legs. He moved to the side of he bed, looking up when the door to the cabin opened and Dean walked in, followed by Frank and the other hunters. The men all moved to the bed, their eyes all coming to rest on the youngest Winchester. Frank moved to the side of the bed, Sam eyeing him warily as he reached for the young man's face.

"It's okay, Sam. I'm just going to check your eyes and your breathing. I need to ask you some questions and do a few physical tests, just to make sure that no damage was done while you weren't breathing," the doctor said softly.

Sam backed away, his body starting to shake as the man once again reached for him. "No…y-you're…you let the demons in," Sam whispered, panic in his soft voice.

Frank pulled back, his eyes going wide as understanding came to him. Sam didn't know that it was a shapeshifter who had taken Frank's form. "Sam, that wasn't me."

"It was…stay away from me! Dad…Dean…why is he here?" Sam cried, his confused eyes moving to his family.

Dean moved to Sam's side and sat on the edge of the bed. He took Sam's hand and squeezed it gently. When he had Sam's attention, he began to speak. "Sammy…that wasn't Frank. It was a shapeshifter. It jumped Frank and took his form so it could let the demons get to you."

Sam stared at Dean then moved his gaze back to Frank. "It wasn't you?" he asked softly.

Frank shook his head, his kindly eyes holding Sam's gaze. "No, Sam. It wasn't me. I'm so sorry that I let that monster get the jump on me," Frank answered.

"'s'kay. Not your fault," Sam replied. "Are you okay?"

Frank gave out a surprised chuckle. "I'm fine, Sam. You shouldn't worry about me, kid. Besides, I smoked that bastard."

Sam's eyes went wide. "Y-you killed it?"

"Yes. It was a bit weird shooting myself, so to speak, but I had to make up for letting it get me in the first place," the doctor answered.

Sam smiled up at the doctor as he relaxed against the pillow once more. "So, is it okay if I examine you now, Sam?" the doctor asked, not wanting to spook the young man further.

Sam's smile disappeared as he glanced worriedly at Dean. Dean nodded as he squeezed Sam's hand reassuringly. Sam nodded once then turned back to the doctor. "Okay," he whispered.

"Okay then…uh…maybe we could have a little privacy?" Frank said as he looked at the other hunters.

"N-No…please…" Sam said, his voice trembling as his frightened gaze moved to Dean.

"I'll stay. Sammy…I'll stay," Dean said, moving his hand up Sam's arm.

Sam swallowed then nodded, his breathing calming at his brother's touch. "Okay…if Dean can stay."

"That's fine, Sam. Dean can stay if you want," Frank said.

Frank nodded at the other men and watched as they moved across the cabin toward the door. Daniel and John glanced back at the other two members of their family before walking through the door, closing it softly behind them. They joined the other hunters on the porch and settled in, waiting for Frank to finish his examination. The men sat in silence, gazing at each other and at the trees that surrounded the cabins they were staying in. John had a faraway look in his eyes and Bobby stared at him with concern.

"Johnny, what's wrong?" Bobby asked, crossing his arms over his chest when John looked over at him.

"Uh…just can't shake this feeling that…" John started, his eyes suddenly going wide as he jumped to his feet. "Oh fuck!"

Daniel leapt to his feet and spun toward his father. "What? What is it, Dad?" he asked urgently.

"It's been nagging at me all day. Something we're missing," John said, brushing his hand through his mussed hair.

"What, John? What are we missing?" Caleb queried, moving to stand in front of his friend.

"Gregory's body," John whispered, his dark eyes moving over each hunter.

Joshua stood up, muttering under his breath. He looked up and shook his head. "We have to burn his body. We forgot that we have to salt and burn his body," he said with disgust.

Daniel's eyes widened with fear. "Oh, shit! He could still come after Sammy. What are we going to do?"

"We go back and finish the job," Bobby said, already moving toward Caleb's rig.

Caleb and Joshua followed, looking back at John and Daniel. John gazed at his eldest son and smiled. "You stay with your brothers. We'll be back just as soon as the job is finished."

Daniel nodded and watched John descend the porch steps and go to the Impala. The Winchester patriarch unlocked the trunk and pulled out a duffel bag then slammed the lid shut before climbing into Caleb's SUV. He rolled the window down and waved as Caleb pulled away from the cabins, Daniel waving back before he turned to the door and stepped back into the cabin. Dean looked up as Daniel entered the cabin, his eyes questioning.

"They've gone back to the estate," Daniel said, his eyes moving to his baby brother and Frank as both looked at him in surprise.

"What? Why?" Dean queried.

"To finish the job," Daniel answered.

"Wh…oh…shit," Dean stammered, his eyes moving to Sam's confused face.

Sam looked from one brother to the other, weakly pushing himself up to sit a little higher on the bed. "What's going on?" he questioned.

Dean and Daniel looked at each, neither knowing what to say. Sam didn't know how they had taken care of Randy Gregory. He didn't even know that they had taken care of him. They both knew that even though the man had put Sam through hell, the boy still would not be happy about how the man had been dealt with.

"Uh…we…we took care of Gregory, but…" Daniel started, his eyes moving over the three men who watched him.

"But what, Danny?" Sam asked.

"But…we forgot to go back and salt and burn his body," Daniel said in reply.

"Oh crap," Frank muttered as he sat on the chair next to the bed.

"What? You…you killed him? But, he's human," Sam whispered, his eyes wide.

"Sam…if we'd have left him alive, he'd keep coming after you. Besides, he stopped being human when he summoned those demons. He never would have stopped, kiddo," Dean said, grasping Sam's shoulder.

"How?" Sam asked softly, his brothers looking at him with confusion.

"How what, Sam?" Daniel replied.

"How did you kill him?" Sam said, his gaze moving over his brother.

The brothers looked at each other, swallowing deeply. "Uh…does that really matter, kiddo?" Dean queried, looking at Frank's nervous face before turning back to his brother.

"Yes, it does matter, Dean."

"He got just what he deserved, Sammy. In fact, he deserved worse if you ask me," Dean answered.

"What…Dean, what did you guys do? Wh…oh my God…you didn't…" Sam stammered, his wide eyes going even wider.

"Sammy…" Daniel started.

"You buried him alive, didn't you?" Sam queried, his voice barely audible.

"Sam…"

"You didn't salt and burn him right away, because he was still alive when you got me out of there. Right? Am I right?" Sam cried.

Daniel lowered his eyes to his lap, his fingers pulling at the hem of his t-shirt. He looked up when Dean answered.

"Yes…we buried him. He deserved what he got, Sammy. He put you there when you'd done nothing. He deserved it."

Sam sat and stared at his brothers. He swallowed as he slumped down into his pillows. A single tear made it's way down his cheek and he wiped it away absently as he turned onto his side. "'m tired. Gonna sleep now," he whispered as he closed his eyes, ignoring his brother's voices as they pleaded with him to talk to them.

"Sam…come on…please," Daniel said plaintively. "We did what we felt we had to do."

Sam pulled the covers up over his shoulder and turned away even further. He wasn't mad at his family, they'd done what they thought necessary to keep him safe. It was just that he knew the terror of being buried alive and no matter what the man had done, Randy Gregory didn't deserve that. He was just a man so lost in his grief that he'd lost his grip on sanity, on his humanity. Sam wanted to let his brothers know that he wasn't mad at them, but he just couldn't deal with this now. He closed his eyes, exhaustion washing over him and within moments, he was asleep, leaving his worried brothers to once again play the waiting game until he awoke again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The four hunters sat in Caleb's SUV, watching the scene below them. They had come down the road, watching for the turn off to Randy Gregory's country home but had continued on when they saw that the drive was blocked off by a sheriff's car. They had found another road and had taken it, finally coming to a spot where they could watch the goings on below without being detected. Caleb turned on his scanner and found the frequency he needed to listen in on what was going on.

The men listened as the radio chatter talked of an associate who had become increasingly concerned when he hadn't heard from Gregory. Because he hadn't been seen for weeks and because he was a prominent public figure, the authorities had decided to check out his home. Thankfully, so far, they had found nothing. Bobby, Caleb and Joshua had been very careful in hiding the grave and had made sure that any hint of their presence had been erased. The hunters were not concerned with the body being found as they were sure the police would not be thinking that they had to search for a body. No, they weren't concerned with that. They were concerned that as long as the cops were around, they couldn't get to the body to salt and burn it and that meant that as long as the body was intact, Sam was in danger.

"Shit!" John cried as he watched the scene below with frustration.

"It'll be okay, Johnny. The cabin is protected. Salt lines are down and the boys and Frank are there to make sure nothing happens. We'll just wait the cops out, take care of the creep when they leave," Bobby said.

"I know, Bobby. I just…I want this to be over with," John said.

"We all do…and it will be, soon," Bobby replied.

John looked at his friends, nodding as he settled in. They could have a long wait and they decided they may as well get comfortable.

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**Well, that's all there is for now. There's more to come, so don't wander too far! LOL Let me know what you think.**

**Cindy.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey all! I know it's been a while since I last posted. I was up visiting my dad this week in Bigfork Montana, which is near Glacier National Park. My dad has prostate cancer and although treatment is keeping it from spreading, he's still not feeling well. I wanted to spend as much time as I could with him before we had to come home. I hope this chapter makes up for the delay. **

**Cindy.**

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"Finally," John grumbled as the last of the sheriff's car left the estate of Randy Gregory.

"Come on, lets get this done," Joshua said, the tall man making his way to Caleb's SUV.

Once the men were loaded into the vehicle, Caleb turned the SUV around and headed back down the road toward the gate to the estate. He made his way cautiously up the drive, the men watching for any officers that may have stayed behind. They pulled up to the front of the house, the grounds seemingly quiet. Caleb pulled around the side of the house so that the SUV couldn't be seen, the men exiting the vehicle as soon as it came to a stop. John pulled his duffel from the back and the men made their way to the woods where they had buried Randy Gregory. They retrieved a few shovels on their way from the shed where Bobby, Caleb and Joshua had placed them and soon the men were uncovering the grave that had once held their precious Sam, and now held Randy Gregory.

John started urgently digging, the need to get to Gregory's body to salt and burn it firing his soul. He glanced up as Joshua joined him, both men knowing just what was at stake.

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Sam lay on his side, his arms wrapped around his body, his eyes closed even though he was wide awake. He was trying to wrap his hazy mind around what had happened starting from the night in the coffee shop to earlier when he'd learned the fate of Randy Gregory. He could sense his brothers watching him, could feel their worrying gazes upon him. He sighed softly then turned weakly onto his back. He opened his eyes and looked from Dean to Daniel, the pain and guilt he saw in their eyes breaking his already weary heart. Daniel stood from his chair and moved to the bed, the eldest brother sitting on the edge next to Sam's hip. He reached out and brushed the stray strands of hair from his baby brother's eyes.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?" Daniel said softly.

"I'm okay, Danny. I…I'm sorry," Sam replied, his hazel eyes falling to his lap.

Daniel grasped Sam's chin and lifted his face up, his thumb brushing a tear from Sam's cheek. "What are you sorry for, Sammy?" he asked.

"For earlier…what I said about Randy Gregory. I know you guys were protecting me…it's just…"

"Sam…we know. We get it," Dean said as he stepped up to the bed.

"You do?" Sam asked, his gaze moving to the middle sibling.

"Yeah. I mean…I thought I'd be happy once we took care of him, but I wasn't. Not really. I'm glad he's dead and I still think he got what he deserved, but I'm not proud of what we did," Dean explained.

"Sam, we had just pulled you out of the ground. You weren't breathing and your heart wasn't beating. You were dead and…and once we got you back, we …" Daniel started, his voice falling off as he dropped his chin to his chest.

Sam reached out and took Daniel's hand, gripping it gently. "It's okay, Danny. I understand. I just…I can see where Randy Gregory was coming from. He lost his whole family in one night. He was hurting so badly and he just wanted someone to pay. He wanted someone to hurt like he was hurting. What he did was wrong, but I can understand," the boy said.

Daniel smiled warmly down at his baby brother. The heart in this kid never ceased to amaze the eldest brother. After everything he'd been through and still he could sympathize with his tormentor. It was that very thing that made the kid the heart and soul of their small family. It was why they fought so hard for him, would fight to the death to make sure that he was safe. Sam was worth it, whether the kid thought he was or not.

"Sammy, we're sorry we did what we did, but…we'd do it again in a heartbeat if we thought it was what needed to be done to keep you safe," Daniel said.

"I know, Danny, and that's what scares me," Sam said softly.

"What? What scares you, Sam?" Dean queried.

"What you guys would do for me. I'm so scared that I'm gonna lose you and it'll be my fault. I know you think that I'm something special, but I'm not. I'm not worth dying for and I'm just afraid that someday…"

"Sammy…first of all, you are special. Mom always called you her special little angel. If Mom thought you were special, well then…who are we to question it," Dean said, ruffling Sam's hair.

Sam smiled warmly up at his brother as he soaked in the love that surrounded him. "You guys are special too, you know. To me? You and Dad…you're everything. I couldn't make it without you all."

The three brothers sat in silence for a time, the two eldest flanking the youngest. Suddenly, a pain filled cry rang out from outside the cabin. The cry was followed a second later by the sound of a shotgun going off. Dean and Daniel were on their feet and Daniel rushed for the door, turning to his younger brothers.

"Dean, stay here…watch out for Sam," he cried, the eldest brother pulling up the shotgun that sat resting next to the door.

Daniel pulled the door open and with one last look at his brothers, he rushed through the opening. Dean retreated back to the bed to stand guard over his brother. Sam sat up and tried to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, but was stopped by his older brother.

"No way, Sammy…you stay put," Dean said, his eyes moving nervously to the door.

"But, Dean…Danny and Frank…what if it's Randy Gregory?" Sam cried, his warm eyes filled with concern.

"They'll be fine. You'll see," Dean replied, his eyes never leaving the door.

Sam cried out as something crashed into the door, followed by a pained shout. The brothers could hear frantic scuffling, then the sound of a shotgun. Silence followed, making Dean and Sam even more frightened.

"Dean? What's going on?" Sam queried softly, his scared eyes wide as he stared at the window next to the door.

"I don't know, Sammy," Dean answered, torn between staying with Sam and helping his older brother and the doctor.

"I'll be fine…just…be careful, okay?" Sam said, his voice trembling.

"Sammy, I can't leave you…"

"You have to help them. They could be hurt."

Dean gazed at Sam then at the door. He stepped to the side of the bed and grasped Sam's shoulder. "You stay right here, Sammy. I mean it…don't you move for nothing," he commanded.

Sam nodded up at his brother, scared beyond belief for the safety of his family. "I'll stay," he said softly.

"You better, Sam. No matter what…"

"I know. Be careful…please."

"I will."

Dean stepped away from Sam, extremely wary of leaving him alone. As long as Sam stayed in the cabin he'd be okay. Dean gave Sam one last look then reached for his shotgun. He headed for the door and opened it and was immediately hit by a strong gust of wind. Suddenly, Dean flew back, hitting the wall and sliding to the floor, his shotgun skittering across the wooden floor toward Sam.

"Dean!" Sam cried as his brother hit the wall, Dean rolling to his side and trying to gain his feet.

Sam jumped from the bed, the boy swaying on his feet as he gazed at his struggling brother. He reached for the footboard to steady himself when all of a sudden an unearthly scream filled the air of the small cabin. Sam staggered back when the apparition of Randy Gregory floated into the cabin, the salt line apparently broken by the gust of wind. The spirit's ghostly eyes moved instantly to the frightened teenager as Sam's eyes sought out the shotgun that Dean had dropped when he was attacked. The ghost moved between Sam and his brother, a wicked smile curling its pale lips.

"You can't escape me, boy. Your brothers and the doctor can't help you and the rest of your pathetic family is far away. You're mine now and nobody will stop me from getting my revenge," the spirit hissed as it moved slowly toward the weak boy.

Sam's eyes moved frantically around the room, looking for anything that would help him get to his brother. Sam's heart soared when he spotted the canister of salt on the table to his right. He kept his eyes on the spirit as it seemed to taunt him, not making a move to attack. He inched toward the table, his legs trembling under his weight. When he was just a few feet shy of the table, he used all of the strength he had left and lunged for the canister. Randy Gregory's spirit screeched as it shot toward him when it saw what he was doing. Sam flung his arm across his body, the salt flying from the open hole and burning through the spirit, Randy Gregory disappearing with a pained scream.

Sam stood with wide eyes for a moment, gathering enough strength to make the trek across the floor. He stumbled weakly across the room and dropped to Dean's side, the older brother grabbing his wrist as Sam reached for him.

"Get somewhere safe, Sammy. Make a salt circle and get into it…now!" Dean cried as he made it to his hands and knees with Sam's help.

"I can't leave you Dean. You're hurt," Sam said as he watched a thin trickle of blood course down Dean's temple.

"I'm fine…just do as I say!" Dean cried, his eyes not quite as clear as they should be as he gazed up at his baby brother.

"No, Dean…I…" Sam started, but his words were cut off as he was grabbed by the collar of his t-shirt and ripped from Dean's side.

"Sammy! No!" Dean screamed as Sam was thrown to the opposite wall, his head crashing into the window next to the door, the glass shattering at impact.

Sam dropped to the floor, his dazed eyes staring up at the spirit who towered above him. Randy Gregory reached down and gripped the front of Sam's shirt, pulling the boy up, the fabric of his shirt ripping down to his midsection under the pressure. The ghost tossed Sam again, the young hunter hitting the table this time and falling to the floor to lay there, unmoving, blood streaming down the back of his neck from an apparent laceration to his scalp. As the spirit descended upon him, it gave out a loud shriek as another shotgun blast pierced the air and thousands of salt particles slammed into it, the spirit disappearing once again.

"Sammy!" Dean cried as he staggered to his fallen brother.

Dean dropped to the floor next to Sam and gently rolled the boy over, his eyes immediately falling to a deep purple bruise already forming on his brother's cheek. He patted Sam's other cheek lightly as he called for him to wake up.

"Sam…wake up, kiddo. We don't have much time," he begged, sighing in relief when Sam's eyelids fluttered then opened.

Sam gazed groggily up at his brother, his hand moving to finger the swelling flesh of his cheek. "D'n?" he whispered, his voice filled with confusion.

"It's okay, Sammy. We're gonna get out of this…I promise," Dean said softly as he moved to pull Sam up.

Sam's eyes suddenly widened and before Dean could react, he was pulled away from his brother and flung once more across the room. Sam was ripped up from the floor by the powerful spirit, it's ghostly hands wrapped tightly around his throat. Sam gasped as the spirit began to squeeze, cutting off his air supply. He was lifted off the floor, his feet kicking wildly, trying to find some sort of foothold. He clawed at the hands around his throat, his actions useless as the spirit squeezed harder. Sam's vision began to dim, his hands falling limply to his sides as all of the fight left him. He felt himself tossed backwards, heard himself cry out hoarsely as he hit the wall above his bed, his battered body dropping to the mattress cross ways, the boy unable to lift even a finger as the spirit closed in on him again. Randy Gregory's spirit was atop the young hunter in an instant, straddling Sam's body, his cold dead hands wrapping around Sam's abused throat again as he began to squeeze the life from the youngest Winchester. Sam heard Daniel's terrified voice screaming his name and he tried to fight back, but he lacked any strength at all and soon his world faded to black as consciousness gave way to darkness.

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John and Caleb were digging frantically, the younger hunter having taken over for Joshua. John had refused to rest and allow Bobby to take over for him. He had to keep digging, he had to get to Randy Gregory before the man's spirit could find his baby and hurt him anymore. Suddenly, John hit something solid and he pounded the shovel head down several times, his heart pounding wildly as he determined they had hit the coffin lid. They continued to clear the dirt away until they could get to the lid. John tossed his shovel aside and jumped up on the bank of the grave. He waited for Caleb to do the same then the two men leaned over and wrenched the coffin lid open. They recoiled at the sight that met them. Randy Gregory's arms were lying over his chest, the fingers frozen into horrible claws, the skin ripped from the tips, fingernails missing. Gregory's eyes were open wide and already turning white, his mouth held in a terrible grimace. The man had died still trying to claw his way out of the coffin, and the men actually felt the pull of guilt as they gazed upon the horrific sight.

"He must have had a heart attack or something," Bobby said as he stared down at the man's body.

"Yeah…he wouldn't look like that if he'd died of suffocation," Joshua agreed, shaking his head.

"We need to get the bastard burned before his spirit can get to the boys," John said coldly, the guilt already gone as he thought about the moment that the lid had been opened to reveal his unresponsive baby boy.

John stood, taking the lighter fluid that Bobby handed him and dousing both bodies in the coffin. Bobby covered the bodies in salt then stepped away as John lit a match and tossed it into the coffin, the bodies instantly engulfed in flames. The four hunters watched as the flames devoured the Gregory men, the fire burning bright for several minutes before it began to die away. Once the bodies were nothing but smoldering heaps of charred bones and flesh, the men closed the lid to the coffin and once again buried father and son, this time for good. The covered the fresh grave with leaves and underbrush then cleared away any sign that they had been there. They walked silently back to the SUV and tossed John's duffel, along with the two shovels into the back before they all climbed in. Caleb started the vehicle and backed around to the front of the house. He got the SUV turned in the right direction, and soon the men were on the road, back to the cabin where hopefully all was well with the Winchester brothers and the doctor. John took one last look over his shoulder, praying that they'd gotten to Randy Gregory before he'd gotten to Sam.

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**That's it for now, but there's more to come. I'll try to get the next chapter out a bit quicker than this one. Please review and let me know what you thought. Love to you all.**

**Cindy.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey guys, here's the next chapter.**

**Cindy.**

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Daniel moaned as he awakened, his hand moving up to touch a tender spot on his head with trembling fingers. "Shit," he hissed as his fingers moved over a small lump.

Daniel rolled onto his side and pulled his knees up toward his chest. He rolled further until his knees were under him then he pushed up onto his hands and knees. His body swayed as the altitude changed and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop the dizziness from taking him down again. He took several deep breaths until he felt the vertigo ease then he slowly opened his eyes. He glanced to his right, seeing the Impala was only a few feet away. He reached his arm out and grasped the rear door handle and pulled himself up from the ground, his gaze drifting to the cracked rear window where his body had collided with the car when he'd been thrown.

"Dean's gonna kill me," he whispered as he finally made it to his feet, the eldest Winchester sibling taking a moment to get his bearings before he moved his gaze to the still form of the doctor some fifteen feet away.

Daniel knew he should check on Frank, but he felt a more urgent need to get to his brothers. He didn't know what had happened while he was out cold, but he had a panicked feeling that it wasn't good. Daniel's eyes jerked toward the front door of the cabin, a sudden loud crash pulling his attention away from Frank instantly. Another crash had him letting go of the Impala and moving as quickly and carefully as his battered body allowed. He made it up the steps and moved toward the door, his hand reaching out to shakily turn the knob. The first thing Daniel saw when he walked through the door made his blood boil. Dean was on the floor, a thin line of blood trickling down the side of his face as the younger man tried to pull himself from the floor. He followed Dean's eyes across the room and his blood turned to ice in his veins as he saw Sam sprawled across his bed, the spirit of Randy Gregory straddling him, his transparent hands wrapped around his baby brother's neck.

"SAMMY!" Daniel screamed as he made a move toward his frighteningly still brother.

Suddenly, the spector let out an ear shattering shriek as it pulled back from Sam, it's hands coming up in front of it's face, the spirit watching with wide, shocked eyes as it's hands, then arms went up in flames. The body followed and within seconds, the ghost disappeared, leaving the elder Winchester brothers to gawk in relief at the spot where the spirit had been. The relief was shortlived however as they moved their gaze to Sam, who lay motionless on the bed, his long legs draped over the edge, bare toes dangling a few inches off of the floor, arms out to his sides, fingers curled toward his palms. Daniel rushed to the bed, his heart thumping madly in his chest as he took in the pale, lax face of his baby brother. He reached the bed and leaned over Sam, his ear coming down over Sam's slightly parted lips. He sagged in relief when a soft whisper of a breath ghosted over his ear. He placed his hand on Sam's chest and felt a slow, steady beat. He turned his head as Dean came up behind him, the middle brother crawling on the bed next to Sam and taking the young man's face in his hands.

"Sammy…wake up. Come on, little brother," Dean pled, his gaze moving to the purple marks encircling Sam's throat, his face turning red with anger.

Dean brushed his fingers through Sam's hair, hoping that the comforting touch would bring his brother around, but the boy remained unresponsive. He looked up as Frank stumbled through the doorway, the doctor immediately making his way to the bed when he saw the brothers. Daniel stepped back, allowing Frank to lean over Sam, the older man lifting Sam's eyelids before pressing his fingers to the boy's neck. Once he felt the weak, but steady pulse he fingered the bruises on Sam's neck, shaking his head as he continued his examination. He looked up at Dean, then Daniel before he stood up straight.

"We need to get him to the hospital right away. He's breathing right now, but with that bruising, his throat could close very quickly," Frank said, the urgency in his voice scaring the brothers.

"Is he going to be okay, doc?" Dean queried, his fingers absently carding through Sam's hair.

"I just can't say, Dean. Sam nearly suffocated in that grave and now, so soon after that, he's strangled? The lack of oxygen is very worrying. We have to get him out of here immediately," Frank responded.

Dean eased off the bed and reluctantly left the cabin to get the Impala ready while Daniel and Frank readied Sam to be moved. Dean rushed back into the cabin a few minutes later, hurrying to Daniel's side as his brother lifted Sam into his arms, the eldest brother staggering as dizziness washed over him. Dean pushed his arms under Sam, taking some of the dead weight off of Daniel and once the older man was steady, they slowly moved to the door and out onto the porch. They carefully navigated the few steps down off the porch and moved to the Impala. Frank followed close behind and once they reached the car he rushed around and crawled in the back seat, reaching his arms out to help the brothers ease Sam across the seat. Once they had Sam situated, Daniel went around the car and took over for Frank, lifting Sam's head and resting it in his lap. Dean slid behind the wheel and waited for Frank to get into the passenger seat before he sped off down the road, frantic to get his brother the help he so desperately needed. He listened as Daniel whispered softly to Sam and took a quick look in the rearview mirror, to see Daniel tenderly caress Sam's face as he spoke to him. Daniel looked up and met Dean's eyes in the mirror, recognizing the fear in them. The same mind numbing fear that he felt himself.

"Dean, you need to hurry. His breathing is getting more labored," Daniel said, the urgency in his voice pushing Dean to press the gas pedal closer to the floor.

Frank turned and kneeled on the front seat, the doctor leaning over the seat to check Sam's eyes again. He gently fingered Sam's throat then moved to rest his hand lightly on the boy's forehead. Sam's eyelids began to softly flutter, and both Daniel and Frank watched as the boy stared groggily up at the ceiling of the car. He didn't acknowledge either his brother or the doctor and within moments, his eyes closed again. Frank watched Sam for a few more moments then turned and sat back in his seat, his gaze moved to Dean, who was watching him out of the corner of his eye. Dean seemed to feel the doctor's worry and he gave the car even more gas. They needed to get Sam to the hospital before he ran out of luck…and time.

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John leaned forward in the seat of Caleb's SUV, his eyes moving up the lane in front of them toward the cabin where his boys waited, hopefully safe and sound. The first thing the hunters noticed as they came around a bend in the road was the missing Impala. John was out of the vehicle before it had even come to a complete stop, the man running up the stairs of the cabin and shoving through the door. He stopped just inside the door, his dark eyes taking in the destroyed and empty room. The other three hunters piled in behind John, their own eyes flitting over the room, knowing immediately what must have gone down. John moved to the bed that Sam had been in and paled as he noticed blood on the sheets just below the pillows. He looked up at the wall above the bed and saw that there was a trace of blood there too. He felt his heart skip at the sight of the blood, the man wondering first of all whose blood it was and next, was whomever it came from okay?

"Where would they have gone?" Caleb queried as he stepped up behind John.

"I don't know, but something big went down here and I think we all know what it was," John said, his stomach knotting at the thought that they hadn't gotten to Randy Gregory in time.

Joshua hurried out of the cabin and returned a few moments later, looking straight at John as he re-entered the cabin. "They aren't in the other cabin either," he said, his eyes moving to the bloodied, broken glass of the window next to the door.

"Johnny, if Sam was hurt…or one of the others for that matter, maybe they went to the nearest hospital," Bobby offered, his concerned gaze resting on his agitated friend.

"You're right. Let's get moving," John said, the man already moving to the door.

The hunters hurried after John and soon they were speeding back down the road, toward Boulder this time, where they hoped to find the missing brothers and doctor, safe and sound.

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Boulder Medical Center-Urgent Care Division

Dean paced nervously, his eyes moving constantly to the door where Sam had been whisked away to after the boy's limp body had been pulled from he and Daniel's arms the second they had rushed through the Urgent Care doors. Dean's eyes fell upon Daniel as the elder brother sat hunched on a chair, bent at the waist, hands clasped over the back of his head. Dean moved to his brother's side and knelt down, resting his hand on Daniel's knee. Daniel looked up, his tired, bloodshot eyes falling on his younger brother's worried face.

"He's got to be okay, Dean. He's got to be," Daniel whispered.

Dean lightly squeezed Daniel's knee as he swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "He will be, Danny," Dean said, praying that he was right.

"Why haven't we heard anything? God, Dean…he was barely breathing by the time we got here," Daniel cried softly.

"Frank's with him. He promised he'd be out as soon as he had news," Dean said in reply.

"We've been here over an hour. What could be taking so long?"

"I don't know, Danny. I wish I did, but I don't."

Daniel suddenly looked up and over Dean's shoulder, his eyes going wide, the young man standing as Frank pushed through the doors and hurried to the brothers. Dean stood and turned as Frank stepped up to the brothers, his eyes filled with fear.

"How is he, Frank? Is he okay?" Daniel cried, his hand reaching out to grasp Frank's forearm.

"He's holding his own right now," Frank answered, his gaze moving between the brothers. "I need to tell you something though and I don't want you to freak out."

Daniel felt his heart drop into his stomach at Frank's words, not sure if he wanted to hear what the doctor had to say. "Wh-what?" he whispered fearfully.

"Because of the damage to Sam's throat, the doctor treating Sam and I both agreed that it would be best to intubate him," Frank replied softly.

"What!?" Dean cried, his legs suddenly becoming weak.

Frank grabbed Dean's arm to steady him and helped him to a chair. Once Dean and Daniel were seated, Frank pulled up a chair and sat across from them. "I know it sounds frightening, but it's merely a precaution. Sam's windpipe was swelling and we felt it would be best to intubate to keep it from closing completely. Now, Sam did come to and he was very confused and agitated. Dr. Sontey felt it was necessary to sedate him for the time being, just to make sure that he didn't hurt himself further," Frank explained, sympathizing with the young men before him.

"Where is he now?" Daniel asked, shock settling in him at Frank's words.

"He's been taken to get a scan. He had a deep laceration on the back of his head and some deep bruising to his back. Dr. Sontey felt a scan was necessary to rule out any bleeds or internal injuries. As soon as they're done with that, they'll be moving him to the ICU so that they can monitor him closely," Frank answered, wishing he had more positive words to say.

"Will we be able to be with him in the ICU?" Dean queried.

"I've spoken with Dr. Sontey and he said he will make sure you are accommodated. He'll allow three people in the room at a time and there won't be any restrictions other than allowing the staff room to work when they need to."

Daniel dropped his head, sighing softly. "Thanks, Frank…for everything," he whispered.

"Hey, no need to thank me. Sam needs his family near him. I know how much that can help someone so ill," Frank said, patting Daniel's knee.

"Is he going to make it, Frank? Be honest…please?" Dean said softly.

"I think Sam will be fine, Dean. My main concern is the chance of brain damage due to the lack of oxygen. First being buried alive, then the strangling? But, he seemed to not have suffered any lasting damage after being revived in the woods, and he never stopped breathing after the strangling, so I'm cautiously optimistic that he'll be okay. Emotionally, I'm not so sure. Sam's been through hell and I don't see him not having emotional problems," Frank replied.

"He's already having nightmares from being buried and now this? He's gonna be a mess," Dean said, his hands clasping and unclasping nervously.

"Well, you'll just all have to step up to the plate and make sure to keep him from drowning in it all," Frank said, his eyes moving over the brothers.

"We won't let him down, Frank," Daniel replied.

"I know you won't. That boy has a lot of love surrounding him and I'm sure he'll come out of this stronger than ever."

"Thanks, Frank," Dean said softly.

The three men settled into their seats, waiting for word to come that they could see Sam. They had been sitting for over a half an hour when four bedraggled men rushed into the hospital. Dean stood the moment he saw his father, the man in a panic as he rushed to the reception desk.

"Dad! Over here…" Dean called.

John turned and upon seeing both his older sons and Frank, he rushed across the room.

"What happened!? Where's Sam?" John cried.

"He's…Randy Gregory's spirit got to him, Dad. He's hurt…he…he was strangled…" Dean started.

"What!? Is he okay?"

"Uh…they had to intubate him, Dad," Daniel said softly.

"Oh my God…is he…"

"Dad…it's just a precaution. His throat was swelling, so they put the tube down so it wouldn't close off completely," Dean explained.

"He didn't stop breathing?"

"No…he didn't," Daniel replied.

"Can we see him?" John asked.

"As soon as they get his scan done, he'll be put in the ICU and then you can go see him," Frank said.

"I'm staying with him. I'm not leaving him here alone."

"We can stay with him, Dad. Frank already made sure of that," Daniel said.

John looked at the doctor, a man he had come to respect deeply and smiled. "Thank you, Frank. Thank you for taking care of my son."

"You're welcome, John."

John turned his attention on his sons once more, for the first time noticing the bruises and cuts on their faces. "Are you hurt?" he asked with alarm.

"We're all fine, Dad. Frank made sure we were check over and we made sure he was checked over. We got thrown around, but we're fine," Daniel answered.

All of the men found chairs and pulled them together so that they could sit and wait for word on Sam. Once they were settled, John turned to Daniel.

"So, what happened? How did the spirit get into the cabin?" he asked.

"Uh…I think Mr. Gregory had some help. I was making my way to the cabin to check on Sam when all hell broke loose. I think it was a demon," Frank said.

"We heard the struggle outside and I went out to investigate, thinking it was Gregory. I took the shotgun, but it wasn't him. I think it was a wind demon. I got blown into the Impala, then…nothing," Daniel said.

John listened to the doctor and his eldest son, then turned to Dean. "Dean?"

"When I opened the door to check on Danny, I was thrown back by a strong force…and then the wind blew the salt from the doorway. Everything went black and when I came to, Sam was being attacked."

"So, Gregory even had his death covered. The man did his homework," John said, his eyes moving over his fellow hunters.

"Yeah. If you'd gotten to his body even one minute later…" Daniel started, a shudder running through his body at the thought of what could have been.

"He was strangling Sam when he went up in flames, Dad," Dean explained after seeing John's confusion.

"Son of a bitch," Joshua murmured after hearing how close they'd come to losing Sam for good.

John seemed ready to say something else when all eyes turned to the doors to the examination areas as a tall, dark haired man walked through them and headed to the group of men. All of the men stood and Frank introduced them to the doctor who had been caring for Sam since he was brought in.

"Dr. Sontey, this is John…Sam's father. Dean and Daniel…his brothers. And these men are his uncles…Caleb, Bobby and Joshua."

Hands were shaken and pleasantries exchanged. "Men, I assume you're ready to see Sam?" Dr. Sontey queried.

"Yes…we're more than ready," Dean replied.

"Well, first of all…the scan went well…showed no sign of any bleeds or internal injuries. I believe Sam will be fine. He'll be sore and we'll need to keep the tube in until I'm certain the swelling in his throat won't be a problem, but other than that, he's a very lucky young man," Dr. Sontey said.

"What about brain damage?" John queried.

"I don't think it'll be a problem, but we'll keep a close eye on him."

John nodded, but he still felt nervous. He was sure that the doctor hadn't been told of Sam's earlier drama. That thought gave John another. Surely the police had been called due to the injuries all of his sons had suffered. He turned to Dean and his son seemed to know just what he was asking without the man having to say a word.

"Don't worry…Frank talked to the police," Dean whispered. "He told them that we were attacked by unknown assailants. We never saw their faces and didn't see where they went."

John nodded and smiled tiredly. Dr. Sontey motioned for the hunters to follow him and soon they were all on their way to see Sam, each man eager to see him, yet fearful at the same time of seeing him once again lying in a hospital bed.

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**There you go for now. More to come.**

**Cindy.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey! I have another chapter for you. Earlier than I thought I'd have it ready. Woo hoo! I started typing and just kept going. I hope you enjoy. **

**Cindy.**

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Dr. Sontey led the seven men to the ICU, but stopped before taking them to Sam. He turned to John and reached out to grasp his arm. "John, I want you to remember before you go into Sam's room that the intubation and ventilator is merely a precaution. Sam has been sedated so that he won't fight the tube and the ventilator has been attached to give him a little help…a little rest," the doctor explained.

John nodded appreciatively and smiled a tired smile. "Thank you, Dr. Sontey. Thank you for taking care of my boy," he said before turning to Frank. "And…thank you, Frank."

"John, you know there's no need to thank me," the older man said.

"Well…nonetheless, thank you."

Frank nodded and placed his hand on John's shoulder. "Let's go see that boy of yours."

Dr. Sontey began walking again, the hunters following close behind. Soon, he stopped before a door and motioned the men inside. John was the first to enter and his eyes immediately fell upon the still form of his youngest son. He swallowed down his emotions as he looked at the tube the protruded from Sam's mouth, medical tape holding it in place. He knew it was only to make sure that Sam's throat didn't close, but it didn't make it any easier seeing his son once again on a ventilator. John moved to the right side of the bed, Dean easing up beside him, both men gazing down at Sam's pale, lax face. Daniel moved up on the opposite side, his hand reaching out for Sam's. He sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze moving up to his father and brother before resting on Sam again.

Frank, Bobby, Caleb and Joshua stood near the end of the bed, watching the small family once again rally around each other, the sense of déjà vu washing over the three who'd seen this scene too many times before. How many times had they watched the three oldest surround the youngest as he fought for his life? How many times had the youngest been tormented and tortured by evil for no reason other than his innocence and goodness? How many more times would they have to witness such suffering? No more times if they could help it. Sam had suffered enough. John, Daniel and Dean had suffered enough. They all had suffered enough.

Dr. Sontey stepped up to the bed, Daniel moving aside so the man could check his patient. Dr. Sontey looked up and smiled. "He's resting peacefully. I can allow three to stay with him. There is a family room right down the hall. You can sleep in there, take turns sitting with Sam. I'll lessen the sedatives once I'm sure that the threat of swelling has diminished. At that time, we can remove the tube and hopefully get this boy on his feet again. I'll leave you to watch over him as I'm sure you know quite well how to care for him. I'll be back in a few hours."

With that, Dr. Sontey left the room, leaving the hunters to settle in. John and his boys moved aside as Bobby, Caleb, Joshua and Frank moved up on either side of the bed. The men watched Sam sleep for a few moments, Caleb reaching down to gently squeeze the boy's hand. The men stepped away and watched as the Winchesters settled themselves then they left for the family room, the men in desperate need of rest. John and Dean pulled up chairs on one side of Sam and Daniel did the same on his side. All three were dead tired, the recent events taking everything out of them, but it would still be awhile before any of them would sleep. The need to watch Sam was more overwhelming than the need for sleep. They sat in silence for several minutes before Dean's voice sounded, making the two eldest Winchesters turn their attention to him.

"Dad? How did you know to come to the hospital anyway?"

John glanced over at his son as he leaned back in his chair. "When we came up to the cabins and saw the Impala gone, we knew something had happened, we just didn't know what. We went into the cabin and saw the destruction. We saw the blood on the broken window and on the wall above Sammy's bed. Then there was the blood on the sheets. We just took the chance that you'd taken whomever had been hurt to the nearest hospital, and this was it," John explained.

Dean nodded, glad that they hadn't left their father and the other men out in the cold, worrying about where they'd gone to and if they were okay. There hadn't been time to leave a note, the urgency to get Sam the help he needed the only thing that the men had had on their minds. "We're sorry you had to come into that. That you had to figure out where we were, Dad," he said softly, his hand moving up to rub softly over Sam's lower leg.

"You did the right thing, Dean. Sammy needed medical attention," John said gruffly, his throat scratchy and raw.

Daniel watched his father and brother as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the mattress, one hand moving up to idly fiddle with one chocolate curl. He turned his gaze to Sam's face, wishing that the tube wasn't there. It reminded him of the other times Sam had needed help to breathe, making his chest ache with the memories. Sam appeared peaceful, but the eldest brother wondered if looks were deceiving. Could Sam, at this very moment be trapped in a nightmare that because of the sedatives, he couldn't wake up from? We're they subjecting him to more pain and terror? Or was he truly sleeping the sleep that would bring him relief and comfort? Sleep that would help to heal his broken body. Daniel prayed that Sam was peaceful and that his sleep was restful. The kid was in desperate need of a break, having survived what Daniel wasn't sure any of the rest of them could have. He was, in his eldest siblings eyes, the strongest of all the hunters. Sam would strongly disagree, but Daniel knew it to be true. Sam, despite his youth and innocence, was resilient beyond his years. Scary smart and so damned compassionate. He could be wickedly funny one moment then the next, so sad that it made you want to cry just to look at him.

Daniel knew that Sam thought of Alisa almost constantly and that he still harbored great amounts of guilt over her death. They'd had so many late night chats after Dean and John had gone to bed and Sam had opened up his heart and soul to his brother, leaving both brothers in tears more times than not. Daniel also knew that Dean and Sam had similar chats and he was almost certain that John had crept out of many motel rooms late in the night to make calls to his baby. Daniel hated to admit it, but in some ways, the drama with both Wilcox men had brought the family closer together. Before Michael Wilcox had come along, John and Sam were constantly at odds. The fights had sometimes gotten so close to physical that both he and Dean had feared for Sam's safety. The kid was scrappy and tough, but John was dangerously strong and when his temper took over, he could hurt Sam before he even realized what he was doing.

After Trenton Wilcox, the bond between father and son, brothers and brother had solidified even more, Sam proving that he wasn't just the baby of the family who always needed to be taken care of. He'd taken Trenton Wilcox out on his own, injured and weak and had bounced back more easily than the rest of them had. Oh, Daniel knew that Sam still had nightmares about both of his tormentors, but they weren't nearly as often or as frightening as they had been right after the events. Daniel was pretty sure that his nightmares were worse. Dean's and their father's too. Sam was stronger than them. He'd lived through the torture and fear and was still able to go out on his own when any lesser person would have given up. Sam had gone to college, far away from his family a good portion of the time and he had blossomed. He had moved to the top of his class in no time and had easily made friends. Daniel wasn't sure if he could have ever trusted anyone enough if he'd gone through what Sam had. He was in awe of his little brother. Even after everything, Sam had retained his compassion and innocence. It scared his family, but they couldn't imagine him any other way.

Daniel continued to idly stroke Sam's hair, casting his gaze to his father and brother when he felt their eyes upon him. "What?" he queried as he watched them watch him.

Dean smiled as his eyes moved up to Sam's pale face. "I know just what you're thinking, Danny," he said softly.

"Oh, you do huh?" Daniel replied.

"Yeah. And you're right. He is stronger than all of us. I don't know how the kid does it, but he just keeps picking himself up and brushing himself off," Dean responded, a look of pride and admiration on his handsome face as he watched Sam sleep.

"I don't know though," Daniel started, his eyes turning sad.

"You don't know what, Danny?" John asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the bed.

"If he can come back this time. It's just too much, too soon."

John lowered his head, his heart heavy because he'd been thinking the same thing. Sam was strong, but even the strongest people had a breaking point and John was afraid that Sam had reached his. He glanced to his side and saw Dean's eyes fill with tears. So, they were all thinking it. They were all thinking that this may be the time that Sam doesn't come back. This may be the time that Sam stops being…Sam. John looked up and across to his eldest son and smiled sadly.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure that he does come back. We'll have to be strong for him and not let him give up," he said, praying that they would have the strength and fortitude to do what needed to be done.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_Sam was running as fast as his legs could carry him, but still the man gained on him. He could feel his chest tightening as his lungs screamed for him to slow down…screamed for him to rest. But, he couldn't rest. If he slowed, the man would get him and all would be lost. Sam turned his head to look over his shoulder, and cried out as he saw that the man had gained more ground. He couldn't see the man's face as it was veiled in darkness, but he was big…Dad's size Sam figured. He forced himself to run faster, knowing that if the man reached him he would never see his family again and nothing scared him more than that._

_Sam ran and ran, his heart pumping madly, his chest heaving. He needed to get away. Suddenly, Sam stumbled, his body hitting the ground with bone jarring force. He screamed in pain, but tried to roll to his side so that he could get to his feet. Something was wrong however, because when Sam rolled over, it was like the whole sky had gone black. He held his hand in front of his face, crying out when he saw nothing but darkness._

"_Nonononono…not again…not again," he cried, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes._

_Strong hands suddenly were upon him, pulling him up from the ground, a cruel, cold voice whispering in his ear, the vile breath burning his flesh as it breezed over him._

"_You must pay. Blood and bones…no sight…no sound…no breath…"_

_Sam screamed for his family, but no sound came through his lips. His head began to pound, the pain pulsating, making his knees go weak and buckle. The man wrapped his hands around Sam's throat and he began to squeeze. Sam clawed at his hands, his arms, his face, but still the man kept squeezing. Tears poured from Sam's eyes so hot they burned his cheeks._

"_Please be a dream…oh god…please let me wake up," he pled, his entire being the embodiment of pain…of suffering._

_The man laughed as he choked the life out of the boy, delighting in the sightless eyes, wide with terror and pain. Sam's body fell limp in the man's hands and the boy lost his fight, the man's laughter following him into the darkness._

_Suddenly, Sam was screaming again and he wondered how that could be possible. He was dead, wasn't he? Or was this a dream? Had he woken up? Where was his family? Why was it still dark? Why couldn't he see? He was lying down, he knew that. He reached his hands up and felt above him, his heart lurching as his hands met a solid surface. He began to panic as he realized he was buried again. He jerked his head around when he heard a scraping noise to his left._

"_Oh god…" he whispered as a low growl sounded, the hairs on his neck rising as tremors quaked through him._

_He could feel hot, fetid breath on his cheek, on his neck. His face was nudged as something wet and cold touched him. Sam was paralyzed with fear for he knew what this was. He knew who this was. David Gregory had come back and now it was Sam's time to pay. Sam screamed as jagged teeth tore into his face then his neck. Claws ripped his shoulder, his chest, his side. Blood sprayed and spurted and Sam begged for death, but death would not listen. His throat was ripped out and Sam began to choke on his own blood, but still he would not die. He could only lie there in that dark, cold coffin while Randy Gregory's son tore him to shreds, shaking his body as if it were a rag doll. _

_Suddenly, Sam was alone, his body shredded…bloody…ruined. He couldn't breathe, his windpipe ripped open, air whistling out the jagged tears every time Sam tried to take a breath. His body arched up from the hard floor of the coffin as his fingers dug into the wood. He felt hands on his shoulders…hands on his face, but he couldn't see who was holding him. He felt a sudden warmth spread up his arm and he fell back to the coffin floor as the pain faded away. Death was finally listening and Sam welcomed it with open arms. He was scared, but he knew that it would be over soon. He wished he could see his family one more time. That was his only regret as the darkness took him away from the pain and the fear. _

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**Oh holy hell!! Let the nightmares begin!! I hope that was okay. I'm not sure if I was able to convey what my warped mind was telling me to write. Somehow, it doesn't seem as scary in print as it was in my head.**

**A quick note to my friend : Sweetie, I know I said that Sam would be awake in this chapter, but I just couldn't get it to come out that way. I promise, he will be in the next one. Please forgive me?**

**Cindy.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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John and his older sons sat around Sam's bed, knowing that it would be a while before the youngest member of their family woke up. John watched Sam as he lay in the bed, his face nearly as white as the pillowcase upon which his head rested. He avoided the vent tube that protruded from Sam's parted lips as much as he could, not wanting to be reminded of the other times in the not so long ago past that Sam had been in similar situations. John brushed his hand over his face, the man tired beyond belief. Just a few short weeks ago, everything had been fine. They had been planning a summer of being together as a family again, hunting and just traveling around the country, but Randy Gregory had changed all of that. Now, Sam lay in yet another hospital, a tube running down his throat to help him breathe, the kid no doubt traumatized beyond all imagination. John looked over Sam to see that Daniel too was watching the boy intently, his hand holding tight to Sam's. Daniel seemed to sense eyes on him because he looked up and into John's eyes, a small, tired smile curling his lips.

"He's so still," Daniel said softly, his thumb rubbing over Sam's palm.

"He'll be okay, Danny," John replied, knowing that his eldest son was close to breaking down.

"Physically, yeah. Emotionally? Dad, how can he come through this? I can't even imagine what Sam's been through. Having his mind messed with then losing his sight and hearing? Nearly dying from encephalitis and then to top it all off, being buried alive?" Daniel cried, tears filling his eyes, his mind and body too exhausted to hold them at bay.

"We'll help him, Danny, just like before. He's strong…he'll be okay, in time," John said, his dark eyes moving back to Sam's face.

"I would have thought that too, Dad, but now we have this latest attack. It's just too much…Sammy was so weak and messed up to begin with," Daniel whispered, the hand not holding onto Sam coming up to wipe tiredly at the tears running down his cheeks.

"Don't give up on him, Danny. He's so damned stubborn and tough. If we don't give up on him, he won't give up on himself," Dean's equally quiet voice sounded from beside John.

Daniel looked toward his younger brother and smiled. "When did you become the optimist of the family, Dean?" he asked, a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

"Look, I know it's going to be rough, okay? How could it not be? I'm just saying that we can't give up. Not on Sammy. Look what he's already overcome. We've got to hold on, no matter how hard it gets," Dean said, the young man rising and standing over Sam's bed, his hand coming to rest on Sam's sheet covered knee.

Daniel lowered his head and stared at the cool hand that he held. "I'm not giving up. I'm just so worried about the kid. I don't want this to break him. I want him to go back to Stanford, to his friends and his classes. I want to hear him laugh and to see him smile. I'm just so damned afraid that Randy Gregory stole too much from him this time for him to come back all of the way. I want him to still be our Sam after all is said and done."

"We all want that, Daniel. We all want that more than anything," John said sadly, wanting to wipe the fear and worry from his son's eyes.

A soft moan from the bed stopped all further conversation, John and Daniel on their feet along with Dean as the three stood next to Sam's bed, their hearts racing. A low keening sound was emitted from around the tube in Sam's throat as the boy began to thrash weakly under the sheets that covered him, his eyes flitting restlessly under closed, bruise colored lids.

"What the hell is going on? He's supposed to be sedated!" Daniel cried, his hand squeezing Sam's hand firmly as he stared wide eyed at his baby brother.

"It's a nightmare," Dean replied urgently.

"But how? He's nearly comatose, they have him on so many drugs," Daniel said, the young man reaching up to caress Sam's cheek.

"I don't know, but he's gonna start choking on that tube!" John cried, the patriarch of the family, grasping Sam's other hand tightly. "Sammy…it's okay, kiddo…you're okay," he said to his son as he leaned over Sam's thrashing body.

Sam suddenly arched up from the bed, his hands pulling from his family's grasps, fingers digging into the mattress as a heartwrenching sound rumbled deep in his throat. Before any of the men could hit the call button, a nurse rushed into the room and hurried to the bed. She pushed in beside Daniel, checking the many monitors that Sam was attached to. She rushed from the room and returned just a few moments later, a filled syringe in her hand. Before any of the men could stop her, the nurse plunged the needle directly into Sam's arm and pushed the clear liquid into his bloodstream.

"What are you doing!?" Daniel screamed when he realized what the nurse had done, pushing the middle aged woman away from Sam's side.

"He needs to calm down! He could hurt himself…" the nurse began to explain.

"He's having a nightmare and now he can't wake up from it!" Dean cried, his angry eyes turning on the nurse.

John stayed out of the argument, the eldest hunter choosing to whisper softly to Sam until the young man began to calm, his tense body relaxing back to the mattress. He looked up when the door to Sam's room opened and Dr. Sontey hurried into the room.

"What's going on here?" the doctor demanded to know as he stepped up to the bed, pushing past the nurse to check on his young patient.

"Sam was having a nightmare and she sedated him again!" Dean hissed, giving the nurse the evil eye yet again.

"Dean, we have to keep Sam sedated until we can take the tube out. I can't stress enough how important it is to keep him calm," Dr. Sontey started.

"No offense, doc, but you don't know Sam and his nightmares. They aren't your every day, run of the mill nightmares. He's reliving everything," Daniel said, anger flaring in the young man.

Dr. Sontey turned to the nurse who stood silently by and asked her to leave before addressing the Winchester men. Once the nurse had left, the doctor turned to the men. "Look, I know that Sam has been through much more than just this attack. I'm not going to ask for details as Frank let me know what I needed to know to treat Sam accordingly. You have to understand though, Sam needs to be sedated right now. It's the only way to get him off that vent as soon as possible. If he were to wake and panic, he could pull the tube out and cause more damage to his throat and we may not be able to get it back in before his throat closes up completely."

"These nightmares could permanently damage him, Dr. Sontey," Daniel said softly. "You just don't understand how real they are to him."

"I understand that if Sam were to pull out that vent, he could die. He may be traumatized further from the nightmares, but he'll be alive. He can get help for the emotional damage, but not if he's dead. I'm sorry, but I have to be firm here. Sam needs to remain sedated and calm…"

"He was sedated and still he was assaulted by that nightmare. He could have accidentally pulled out the vent tube, so is keeping him under and in those dreams really the best answer?" John queried, worry for his baby causing his voice to tremble.

"That is worrying, John. I was hoping we could get away without using heavy sedation, but I'm afraid we're going to have to get a bit more heavy handed. I'll have Sam more heavily sedated where he will be able to recover and won't be able to have nightmares," the doctor stated, holding his hand up when the brothers started to protest. "I know, you want Sam awake and you don't want him so far under, but it's necessary to accomplish what we all want for him. I want his throat to heal enough to get that vent out, as you do, and you don't want him having those nightmares. This is the only way we're all going to get what we want for Sam."

John contemplated Dr. Sontey's explanation for a moment before sighing heavily. He looked down at Sam, smiling as the boy appeared to be resting peacefully. He nodded, ignoring his boy's objections as he turned to the doctor.

"Okay, doc. Keep him under, but if he continues to have the nightmares, we'll have to come up with another solution," he said, hoping he was making the right decision.

"Dad…" Dean started, quieting at John's look.

"We try it the doctor's way first, Dean."

"But…"

"Dean…I said we go with the doctor so drop it."

"Yes, sir," Dean grumbled, pushing past his father to take his place near Sam's shoulder.

Dean reached out to tenderly brush hair from Sam's forehead, wanting nothing more than to see his hazel eyes open and to hear his soft laughter. Dean missed the way Sam's eyes lit up when he laughed, only occasionally catching a glimpse of that part of his brother these past few years. Sam rarely laughed anymore, but had recently begun to come out of his shell, his family begrudgingly attributing that for the most part to his time at Stanford. While they hadn't been thrilled when Sam had shown them the acceptance letter, there was no way they were going to deny him what he wanted. Sam had thrived at school, the boy being forced to do for himself, to look after himself and it did him a world of good. Now though, it seemed as if all of his hard work would go up in smoke. The events of the past few weeks had destroyed all of the progress Sam and his family had made and had quite possibly worsened Sam's state of mind.

Dean looked up and caught Daniel watching him, the eldest sibling smiling comfortingly and giving him a knowing nod. Daniel knew exactly what Dean was thinking, the brothers usually working on the same wavelength, especially when it came to Sam. The brothers watched as the doctor and John left the room, presumably to talk more about Sam's treatment and both relaxed when they were left alone with their baby brother.

"This isn't good, Danny. I don't like Sam being sedated until he's nearly comatose. It's not right," Dean said softly, his fingers carding through Sam's greasy hair.

"What can we do, Dean? It's Dad's call, not ours. I don't know, maybe the doctor is right. If they keep him deeper under sedation, maybe the nightmares won't come. It's just for a little while," Daniel replied, sighing tiredly as he sat on the edge of Sam's bed.

"Yeah…that's crap and you know it. He'll still have nightmares. He just won't be able to wake up," Dean said, his green eyes flashing with anger. "We'll just have to sit here and watch him, knowing that he's suffering and we won't be able to do a damn thing about it!"

"Dean, we don't know that Sam will still have the nightmares. Dr. Sontey said if he's more heavily sedated, he won't dream," Daniel said.

"This is Sam we're talking about, Danny. He's not like everybody else. You know his nightmares are different…that there's more to them. Drugging him to the gills isn't going to stop them."

Daniel glanced at Sam, smiling sadly, knowing full well that Dean was right. Sam had never had what could be called 'normal' dreams. His were more intense, leaving the boy shaken for hours afterwards at times. Daniel looked back up at Dean. "We'll just have to do whatever we can to let him know we're here. That's always seemed to help him before."

"How? He's so far under…"

"We talk to him…touch him. If he seems in the least bit like he may be dreaming, we get as chick flicky as it takes to let him know that we're here. You know how Sam loves that sh*t," Daniel said with a chuckle, his hand moving affectionately up and down Sam's arm.

Dean laughed, his own eyes moving to Sam's face. "Yeah…he shoulda' been a girl," he said softly.

"He'll be okay, Dean. We'll get him through this, just like before."

Dean glanced at Daniel and sighed. "I hope you're right, Danny. I really hope you're right."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_Sam was running, the sharp slap of tree branches stinging, but never slowing him down. The low growl came again from behind him, closer his time. Sam ventured a quick look over his shoulder, not seeing the beast, but knowing that it was there, just seconds behind him. Seconds from ripping his to shreds. Sam turned his head back around just as his foot caught an exposed tree root, the boy pitching forward, hitting the ground hard, gasping as the air was driven from his lungs. He barely had time to get to his knees before the werewolf was upon him, it's claws ripping, teeth tearing._

_Sam screamed in absolute agony as his body was torn apart, the young man unable to figure out why he was still alive. Suddenly, the werewolf stopped and sat down on its haunches, the beast turning it's head as a figure stepped from the trees. Sam gasped as Randy Gregory strolled up to the wolf, his hands moving lovingly over the head, rubbing the alert ears. The wolf turned and licked the man's hand, whining as Randy Gregory scratched behind its ears. The man stared down at the bloodied boy and smiled._

"_What do you want with me? Please…just leave me alone," Sam cried, his body destroyed but his mind intact, the pain surrounding him, filling him, becoming his world.._

"_You have to pay for your family's sins, Sam. They killed my son, now I kill theirs," Randy Gregory hissed as he moved up to Sam, the wolf right beside him. David Gregory, his son. _

_Sam writhed on the ground, fear suffocating him, pain keeping him from the darkness that he yearned for, if only to escape the pain for a little while. He expected the wolf to attack at any moment and finish what it had started. As Randy Gregory stood over him, laughing at his struggles and the wolf bared its teeth, Sam knew that this was it. He closed his eyes, preparing for more pain when from out of nowhere a familiar voice called to him, echoing through the forest._

"_Sammy…it's okay…we're here. It's just a dream. Hold on, little brother…just a little while longer…"_

_Sam looked up at his tormentors, seeing their confusion, the wolf whimpering and whining as it cowered next to Randy Gregory. The man looked down at the wolf, a look of fury on his face. "Stop cowering! Attack the little bastard!" he screamed._

_The wolf whined again, the voice coming through the trees again, giving the boy on the ground hope that this was just a dream. Suddenly, Sam felt a phantom touch on his cheek, a touch he knew well. "Dean…" he whispered, bringing a bloody hand up to his cheek, his fingers ghosting over the phantom fingers that brought him so much comfort._

"_Don't give up, Sammy…you're not alone…you're never alone…"_

_Sam smiled as the pain began to recede, the terrifying wounds knitting together, the blood disappearing. He looked up, his eyes going wide as Randy Gregory and the wolf began to fade away, the furious man's raging voice carrying through the forest, but going silent as he and his son disappeared. Sam lay back on the ground, the voices of his loved ones washing over him, the soft, tender feel of their touches lulling him until the comforting darkness enveloped him, taking away all of his pain…all of his fear._

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**The Next Afternoon**

Dr. Sontey leaned over Sam, his fingers deftly manipulating the boy's throat under the watchful eyes of John and his older sons. The hunters prayed that the doctor would give the news that they longed for. They prayed that the vent tube would be gone and that Sam would be allowed to awaken. They had suffered with the boy as he was assaulted with nightmares despite the heavier sedation, Dr. Sontey amazed and dismayed at the situation, but still insisting that keeping Sam deeply under was the best course of action. The doctor had watched as Sam writhed on the bed, only to calm at the gentle touches and tender words that his family offered. Never had he seen a family so devoted to one of its own…so fierce in its protectiveness.

The men held their collective breath, waiting as Dr. Sontey straightened and turned around. The doctor took in the expectant gazes and could not keep the men in suspense any longer. "So, shall we get this tube out of this kid so we can get him awake?" he queried, a smile curling his lips as he watched the men sag in relief before him.

"He's okay? His throat's okay?" Daniel asked tentatively.

"It looks good. I'll stay near, just in case, but I think Sam'll be fine," Dr. Sontey replied.

"Oh, thank God," John whispered, the man moving to his baby's side and taking his hand.

"Okay, so I'll need you to step out of the room while we remove the vent tube then you can come right back in. Sam'll be on a nasal canula to make sure he gets enough oxygen."

"What about the sedation? When will Sam be awake?" Dean asked, the young man shuffling from one foot to the other nervously.

Dr. Sontey chuckled lightly at the bundle of nervous energy before him. "We'll take him off of the heavy sedatives, let him wake up and see how it goes."

"Thanks, doc," Dean said with a relieved smile.

"So…let's get this done. Can you step into the waiting room for a bit and I promise in fifteen minutes, you'll be back in here with Sam."

The men reluctantly left the room, heading to the waiting room down the hall where their friends awaited news on Sam's condition. They filled the hunters in on the good news and then settled in to wait. True to his word, Dr. Sontey came into the room fifteen minutes later and led the hunters, all of them back to Sam's room. The men filed into the room, their eyes immediately going to the still boy in the bed. Sam was still pale, but the hated tube was gone, thankfully. His throat was encircled with ugly bruises, the sight of them bringing the attack back to Dean in all of its terrifying horror. He made his way to the bed and took Sam's hand as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Daniel came around the other side of the bed and stood, watching Sam as he slept. Dr. Sontey smiled before he left the room, leaving the men to watch over his patient.

John stepped up next to Dean and rested his hand on his middle son's shoulder, smiling as Dean glanced around at him before returning his attention to Sam. John felt a chair being pushed up behind him and he nodded appreciatively at Joshua before sitting down. He rested one elbow on the bed and laid his head in his palm, his eyes glued to Sam's face. Bobby found a chair and pulled it near the window, taking a seat and watching the family while Caleb plunked down on the floor beside him. Joshua planted himself on the window ledge, all of the men settling in to wait for Sam to awaken.

Two hours later and low snores could be heard coming from both Bobby and Caleb as they sat next to each other, Caleb's head lolled to the side, resting against Bobby's jean clad leg. Joshua was still on the ledge, his head lowered as he snoozed. The Winchesters remained awake, none of them able to sleep while they waited for Sam. The first low moan had the three on their feet, their eyes searching Sam's face as he rolled his head to the side. Eyes flitted under shadowed lids as Sam began to wake up, his groans and whimpers waking the other three hunters until all six were crowded around the bed. John took Sam's hand and rubbed it gently, coaxing his son to open his eyes. A few moments later, the men were rewarded as tired, hazel eyes opened and stared up at John, blinking sluggishly as the sedative still had a hold on the boy. Sam flinched, gasping as he tried to pull away, obviously not fully awake and aware of who stood above him.

"Shhh…it's okay, Sammy…it's me…Dad. You're safe now," John cooed as he leaned over so that Sam could see that it really was him and not his tormentor.

Sam squinted his eyes, searching John's face. "D'd?" he whispered, his voice barely there.

John smiled warmly as he reached up to cup Sam's cheek. "Yeah, it's me, kiddo," he said, smiling as Sam leaned into his touch, a silent tear making it's way down the boy's pale face.

Sam smiled lightly as he nuzzled John's hand. His lids lowered as he softly murmured, "'m t'rd," then his eyes closed completely and just like that, he was asleep again.

"You sleep, Sam. We'll be here," John whispered, his thumb caressing Sam's cheekbone, the boy still leaning into his touch, even in sleep.

John looked over at his friends and smiled. "Why don't you guys join Frank at the motel, get some sleep. Oh, and take these two with you," he said, indicating his older boys with a tilt of his head.

"No way, I'm staying right here," Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.

Daniel stood and nodded, taking the same stance as his brother. John shook his head, knowing that would be the response. "Fine, but you're going to the family room and getting some sleep. I'll send someone for you when he wakes up again."

"But, Dad…" Daniel started.

"Either you both go get some sleep in the family room, or you go back to the motel and get some sleep there."

Both boys frowned and nodded, not happy that they were being sent away, but knowing that John would keep his promise and send for them the second Sam awoke again.

"What about you, Johnny? You haven't slept either," Bobby said, his eyebrow lifting as he gazed at his friend.

"I'll sleep in the chair. I'll get some sleep, but I'll be here when he wakes up again," John answered.

Bobby nodded then suddenly left the room, the grizzled man coming back a few minutes later, pushing a cushioned chair. He replaced the hard plastic chair that John had been using with the more comfortable one, easing John down with a firm push on his shoulder. Bobby, Caleb and Joshua left the room after a few minutes, leaving John and his sons alone again.

"You two get some sleep. I mean it," John said, eyeing his sons with a firm gaze.

"Yes, sir," Daniel said, moving to the bed and whispering in Sam's ear before letting Dean in to say his goodbyes.

Once the brothers had left, John leaned up to the bed and took Sam's hand. "Sleep peacefully, kiddo. I'll be right here. I love you, Sammy…I hope you know how much," he whispered before leaning back, his eyes never leaving Sam's lax face.

John knew it would be a long journey, but he also knew that with his family around him, Sam would be okay again. With that thought in mind, John closed his eyes, the man soon falling into the first peaceful sleep he'd had since this whole nightmare had begun. The room was filled with the sounds of the oldest and the youngest Winchester's soft snores, and at least for awhile, all was well in the Winchester world.

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**Sam woke up!! Yay!! More to come.**

**Cindy.**


	26. Chapter 26

**I have the next chapter ready for you all. Now, I know that I promised more awake Sam in this chapter, but it just didn't turn out that way. I'm sorry, especially to who is going to be very upset that she doesn't get to see Sammy's beautiful eyes. I promise hon, there will be awake Sam in the next chapter. I just couldn't make it work for this chapter. There is much brotherly fluff between Dean and Daniel though. Hope that makes up for silent, sleepy Sam.**

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"Dean…you asleep?" Daniel called softly, the eldest Winchester brother curled on the loveseat of the ICU family room.

Dean cracked open one eye and looked at his brother as he reclined on the longer sofa, his feet crossed, hands clasped together on his stomach. "Nah…can't sleep."

"Me neither," Daniel said as he uncurled himself and sat up then stretched his arms above his head.

Dean sat up and brushed his hand over his face before he ran his fingers through his hair. "Can't sit here while Sammy's down there," he said softly, his eyes turning to the door, staring at it as if he could see right through to Sam's room.

"I know. Why did Dad send us down here anyway? We could have slept there just as well…no, we could have slept there period," Daniel said.

Dean smiled as he eyed his brother. He stood, one eyebrow lifted and moved to the door. "You coming?" he queried.

"Where? To Sam's room? Dad'll be pissed," Daniel replied, rising from the loveseat nonetheless.

"He wanted us to sleep. We can't sleep here," Dean said.

Daniel gazed at his brother then nodded. They left the family room together and headed to Sam's room. Once they were outside his door, they looked at each other before Dean carefully pushed the door open and peeked his head inside, smiling when he saw his father draped in the chair, his head laid back, mouth agape. He scooted through the opening, pushing the door a bit wider so that Daniel could ease through. The brothers quietly crept up to Sam's bed, both watching their kid brother intently, looking for any signs of discomfort or distress. Seeing that he appeared to be sleeping peacefully for a change, the two looked around for places to sit. Dean pulled up the one remaining chair and plopped down into it. Daniel sat on the end of the bed, careful not to disturb his brother. He looked at Dean and smiled tiredly.

"I wish he could sleep this peacefully all of the time," Daniel whispered, his hand resting lightly on Sam's foot.

"He's drugged, Danny. We'd have to carry around a pharmacy to make sure he slept like this all of the time," Dean said.

"I'm just saying the kid deserves the rest after everything he's been through."

"I know. I have a feeling this is going to be the last peaceful night of sleep he gets for quite awhile."

"Yeah…the nightmares will come again. The panic attacks…the not eating."

"The guilt…"

"Huh?"

"The guilt. He'll feel guilty for Randy Gregory's death. Even after what the bastard did to him, he'll feel guilty."

"Shit. You're right. Sam blames himself for everything. Mom, Alisa…now this? He'll blame himself because we love him so much that we won't let anyone who hurts him live."

Dean gazed at Sam, reaching up to straighten his covers, his hand pausing on Sam's chest so that he could feel the steady beat of his brother's heart. His own chest tightened as his mind traveled back to two years ago and Michael Wilcox. Before him, Sam had been the epitome of innocence. Not quite seventeen and the kid had still been a virgin, in every sense. He'd never killed, never had sex. Yes, he'd helped on hunts, doing research and what not, but he'd never gotten his hands dirty with the real heavy stuff. He hadn't been allowed. As much as John had wanted Daniel and Dean to learn the family business and join the foray of hunting as early as possible, he'd fought just as hard to keep Sam away from that part of it. Of course, Sam had to go through all of the physical training, and the weapons training, hand to hand combat, all of it, but he hadn't been allowed to put all of that training to use. Deep down, John had been terrified of losing the one last bit of innocence and purity that his small family possessed. That was Sammy. He was trained to protect himself, but had never had to use his skills as he'd had a father and two older brothers who made sure that he was protected and sheltered.

He'd never had to use his skills until Michael Wilcox had come along. That's when Sam had had his innocence stolen away. That's when he'd had to make his first kill. What made it so much worse than either of his brother's, or his father's for that matter, was the fact that when Sam had caused the death of Wilcox, the monster had merely been a man. A human. His first kill had not been a supernatural being. Wilcox hadn't become that until after he'd died. So, Sam had lost his hunting virginity that fateful day. No, he'd had it stolen away, forced to kill the man who had planned to rape and kill him. And the kicker in that whole debacle? Sam had felt guilty. Not for actually killing Wilcox, but for not feeling bad about it. Dean gave a quiet, sad chuckle at that one, Daniel looking at him curiously from the end of the bed. Dean shook his head, thinking about how Sam had felt bad for not feeling bad. Crazy, mixed up kid. Daniel looked away from his weird ass brother and leaned back on the bottom of the bed, resting his head on his hand, his elbow pressing into the mattress. The faraway look was back in Dean's eyes and the eldest sibling wondered just where his mind was.

Dean tuned out his brother's gaze as his mind went back to Sam and Michael Wilcox. They had finally taken care of the bastard and then the work had begun on getting Sam back to them. It'd taken a long time, but Sam was strong and resilient and he'd finally gotten over the trauma, for the most part. He had his girl and his family and he had been happy. Then, a year after Michael Wilcox, his freaking, fucked up son, Trenton had come along to screw everything up again. By that time, Sam had done the deed with Alisa, and the kid was so in love he practically floated. Then, that horrible night in the park, Trenton Wilcox had stolen the love of Sam's life away, nearly killing Sam too. In a way, he had killed Sam that night. A part of Sam had died along with Alisa, and Dean cringed at the fact that his baby brother would never get that part of himself back again.

Trenton Wilcox had done horrible things to Sam when he'd taken him, stealing more of Sam's innocence away, in the end forcing Sam to kill him. The kid had proven that he was more than capable that night, and it had broken all of their hearts to know how he'd had to prove it. Sam had been lost, and really whom was Dean fooling? They'd all been lost after that for quite some time. Then, just like before, Sam had recovered, his nightmares diminishing, the boy proving just how strong he was. Then had come that night when Sam had handed John a simple piece of paper. A letter that would change all of their lives, again. A letter that said Sam would be leaving them to go to school where they couldn't be there day and night to watch over him, to make sure he was protected. John had not wanted him to go, but he couldn't deny the kid what he wanted. Maybe before the Wilcox's had intruded in their lives, it would've been different. Sam and John hadn't done much except fight before, and Dean was certain that John would have never let the kid go to Stanford without a fight. He'd probably have told Sam that if he left, to never come back. But, he had let Sam go, reluctantly. Then Randy Gregory had happened.

Sam had been so happy, even talking about a girl who he was kind of crushing on. And wasn't that a huge step in the right direction. After Alisa, the family had thought that Sam may never find someone again. He was so sure that he was responsible for Alisa's death and had once said that he'd never fall in love again. He'd said it would be too dangerous for anyone to get close to him. Then he went to Stanford and met some girl. He'd never said her name or how he'd met her, but Dean could tell the kid was smitten. Then they'd gotten that phone call. The one from Sam's friend and a whole new nightmare had begun. A nightmare that hadn't yet run it's course. Randy Gregory was gone, but they still had the nightmares and panic attacks to look forward to. The sleepless nights and the days spent trying to get Sam to eat, to drink, to live.

Dean was so damned tired of all of this. He was sick to fucking hell with all of the big bads out there coming after his sweet, softhearted little brother. His baby brother who felt guilty after having to kill something that was dead set on killing him. It wasn't fucking fair. Sam should never have to feel the kind of pain that had been forced on him so many times. Nobody should have to feel that kind of pain, but Sam was special. And not just because he was Dean's little brother either. Dean could feel it, could see it every time he looked at Sam, or whenever Sam smiled or laughed, or even cried. There was something special about him. Something that put him in a class all his own. Dean knew this with every fiber of his being, and he knew that his father and brother felt it too. They'd felt it the first time they'd ever laid eyes on the wiggly, pink little being with the thick mop of dark, curly hair all those years ago. Felt it the first time the little eyes had fallen on them, the perfect little lips curling into a smile, little spit bubbles popping out as the kid had gurgled happily.

Dean felt tears well in his eyes as he remembered the first time those sweet little fingers had wrapped around his finger. That had been the day he'd devoted his life fully and completely to that little bundle of absolute, pure happiness. Dean had seen the same look in his big brother's eyes when Sam had latched onto his finger, the two sharing a look that said it all. This is OUR little brother and nobody is ever going to hurt him without paying a very dear price. And they'd kept that promise.

"Hey…you okay?" Daniel's concerned voice called softly, and Dean blinked the tears away, looking up at his big brother with a warm smile.

"Yeah…just remembering," he said, his gaze shifting to Sam's pale, peaceful face.

Daniel nodded and followed Dean's gaze, his own eyes softening as he watched Sam sleep. "He always looks so young when he sleeps," he whispered affectionately.

"He's friggin' adorable," Dean said, clamping his mouth shut tight when he realized what he'd said. He looked over and cringed at the look of amusement on Daniel's face.

"Adorable, huh? Such a manly word, little brother," Daniel said with a soft chuckle.

"Uh…I…," Dean stammered, his face red. He narrowed his eyes, and glared at his amused brother. "If you tell him, or anyone else, that I said that, I'll kick your scrawny, big brother ass!" he hissed.

"Awww, Deanie…you are just so adorable! Makes me want to just get up and pinch your adorable widdle cheeks," Daniel cooed, moving his leg as Dean struck out at him.

"You're going to wake Dad up and then the shit will really hit the fan," Dean warned, unable to keep a grin from his lips.

Dean made to say something very witty, but a sudden yawn assaulted him and the perfect remark he'd had been ready with flitted away, never to be seen again. His eyelids were becoming heavy and he looked up to see that Daniel was looking a bit on the exhausted side too. He shook his head, yawing again and chuckling lightly when Daniel let out one of his own. "Let's get some sleep," he said as he rested arms on the bed and laid his head on them, getting as comfortable as the plastic chair would allow.

"Yeah…we better, before the old man wakes up," Daniel said in reply.

"Night, Danny," Dean said, his voice already sounding like he was halfway asleep.

"Hey, Dean?" Daniel whispered.

Dean lifted his head and looked at Daniel. "Yeah?" he said.

"He'll be okay. You know that, right?"

Dean glanced at Sam then back at his older brother, smiling as he gave his answer. "Yeah…I know. I just hate that he has to go through this again, that's all."

Daniel nodded, his eyes bright all of the sudden. "I know…me too. Poor kid. He's never hurt anyone his whole life, and this is what he gets for it."

Dean looked up at Sam, his throat constricting as Sam let out a soft whisper of breath as he turned his head to the side. He turned back to Daniel then rested his head on his arms once again. Daniel watched both of his brothers for a moment before he laid back on the mattress, his legs dangling over the side. He put one arm under his head and closed his eyes. Soon, both brothers were sound asleep, the knowledge that Sam was near allowing their harried minds to finally rest, both knowing that the peace wouldn't last for very long.

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John awoke suddenly, the man coming up from the chair, his eyes skirting around the room in a panic. He relaxed when he saw Dean and Daniel zonked out, surrounding their baby brother, just as he had suspected they would be. He knew that they'd never be able to stay in the family room with Sam right down the hall. The only reason he had sent them there was so that he could have a little bit of time alone with his baby boy. Sure, he'd been asleep the entire time, but he'd had Sam to himself nonetheless. It was always Daniel, Dean and Sam. The three were seldom far away from each other and it was very difficult for John to get any time alone with any of them. The nine months that Sam had been away at Stanford had afforded him the opportunity to get alone time with his older boys, but the second Sam was with them, they were inseparable. He cherished any time he had alone with his youngest, even if it was in sleep.

John walked quietly to the end of the bed and brushed his fingers softly through Daniel's short hair before he moved around the bed to Dean. One arm had fallen from the bed and dangled next to Dean's side and John knew it'd give him heck if he left it that way. He bent and lifted the arm, resting it back on the bed, giving it a gently squeeze. He went back around the bed and stood over Sam, smiling down at him affectionately. His baby, his sweet Sam. How could he have ever fought with the kid? How could he have ever thought negative things about him? How could he have ever considered Sam the weak link in their family when in reality, Sam was the glue that held them all together. What a fool he'd been. It'd taken the Wilcox monsters to show him what a treasure Sam was. Of course, he had always loved Sam, but had thought him weak…soft. He'd never been so wrong in his whole life.

John reached down and lovingly cupped Sam's cheek, smiling as the boy leaned into the touch. He gazed at all of his boys, feeling like the luckiest man alive. He had three wonderful, strong and unique sons. How could he ask for anything more? He pulled away from Sam and sat again. He let the soft pull of sleep take him away, secure in the knowledge that Sam was safe. That all of his boys were safe.

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**That's it for this chapter. More to come.**

**Cindy.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hey folks, I'm back with a new chapter. And, as promised, Sam is awake. It's not fluff though, so you may need hankies.**

**Cindy.**

**Warning: The beginning of this chapter is a wee bit...um...gory. Not blood splattering everywhere, but not a pretty picture either. You have been warned.**

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_Sam walked cautiously toward the cabin, eyeing it nervously as he had never seen it before and couldn't figure out why he was there. He came around the front of the cabin stopped suddenly, a strangled cry escaping his dry lips. Frank lay on the ground, the earth beneath him saturated with blood. His throat was destroyed, his stomach and chest ripped wide open. The doctor's eyes were open, the look frozen on his face one of extreme fear and agony. Sam clamped his hand over his mouth, not wanting to make any noise as he eased around the man who had cared for him when he was near death. Tears welled in his eyes, the boy somehow knowing that the man had died because of him. _

_Sam left the body behind and started up the few steps to the porch of the cabin. The building was frighteningly silent as Sam pushed the door open and stepped inside, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the change in lighting. When his eyes finally adjusted, he nearly screamed at the sight that met him. Daniel lay sprawled on the wooden floor of the cabin, his body in the same condition as Franks had been. His lifeless, dull eyes stared up at Sam accusingly and the boy had to turn away, the tears that he had held at bay finally overflowing his lids to trail down his flushed, hot cheeks. He felt sick and faint and had to take several deep breaths to keep from passing out. He turned once more toward his eldest brother, the boy sobbing now as he looked upon the ruined body. This was his brother, his Danny whom he would do anything for and who had done everything for him and now the man was dead, another casualty of being related to Sam._

_Sam began to kneel, his trembling hand reaching out for his brother when he heard a low growl coming from the far, darkened corner of the cabin. He lifted his head and stared toward the corner, squinting as he tried to see through the shadows. The corner suddenly became illuminated and Sam couldn't contain the scream that tore from his throat at seeing the scene before him. Dean was pressed against the wall, a long clawed, furry paw holding his blood covered body in place. His throat was gone, just like Daniel's and Frank's. His eyes stared forward, glassy with pain, his mouth working to speak, yet no sound was heard. The werewolf that held him turned it's head around, it's hateful eyes peering menacingly at Sam. It drew it's lips up in a snarl and Sam could see the saliva, mixed with blood dripping from it's razor sharp teeth. Sam stumbled forward, his need to get to his brother greater than his need to save himself. Dean's eyes were on him now and Sam could see the plea in the green depths._

"_Oh god…Dean…no," Sam whispered as he moved forward._

_The wolf growled deeper in it's throat, baring it's teeth even more, daring Sam to come closer. Sam's eyes never left Dean's face as he continued to advance, knowing that he had to do something. When he was within ten feet of his brother, the werewolf whipped it's head around and attacked, it's teeth ripping into Dean's chest, the claws from the paw that didn't hold the stricken man tearing his stomach open in one ferocious swipe. Sam stopped, his mouth open in a silent scream as he helplessly watched his brother torn apart. The wolf pulled back from Dean's chest then went for his already ruined throat, it's teeth tearing through flesh, muscle and bone. It jerked it's head, suddenly ripping the hunter's head from his body. Sam staggered back as his beloved brother's head hit the floor with a resounding thud at his feet. He stared down at the wide, dead eyes that stared back at him. Dean's lips began to move, an impossible whisper escaping, the same words repeating over and over, driving Sam to the brink of a breakdown._

"_Why Sam? Why? You were the one who was supposed to die…"_

_Sam collapsed onto the floor, his eyes glued to his brother's face, his body paralyzed with grief and fear. He looked up when he sensed movement, his eyes locking with the werewolf as it descended upon him. He narrowed his eyes, rage flowing through his blood at what the creature had done to his family. They should be alive, not him. He was the one who was meant to pay, not his brothers. Sam stood on shaky legs and faced the werewolf, ready to take it on with his bare hands for what it had done. As the werewolf neared, it suddenly reached down with one huge paw and tore Dean's head up from the floor, its long claws wrapped around the crown. It turned Dean's face toward Sam and bared its teeth, its lips seeming to curl in a victorious grin. Sam's whole body shook with rage and grief as he stared at the face of his dead brother. The werewolf let out a terrifying howl before it suddenly clamped its massive jaws around Dean's severed head, the bone crunching and snapping as it was crushed. Sam rushed forward, his eyes wide, a wild scream tearing from deep within his throat._

"_NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!"_

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"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"

John was out of his seat, awake and alert in a heartbeat at Sam's anguished scream. Sam bolted straight up in the bed, his eyes wide with terror, but John could tell just by looking at him that he wasn't seeing the hospital room. John grabbed Sam by his shoulders, trying to keep the boy in the bed while Dean rushed to Sam's other side and grasped the hand that reached out, fingers searching for something that the men couldn't see. Daniel rolled off the end of the bed, the surprise of his brother's scream startling him awake. He was on his feet and beside Dean in seconds, his eyes staring in fear at the look of absolute terror on Sam's face. John let loose of Sam's shoulders and took his face into his large hands, gently turning Sam until they were face to face.

"Sam! Sammy…snap out of it! It's just a nightmare…Sam!" John cried as he pulled Sam's face closer to his.

"No! They're dead…they're all dead! My fault…I was supposed to pay, not them…" Sam screamed as he tried to pull free from John's grasp.

John gave Sam a shake, hoping to bring his youngest out of the dream that held him prisoner and wipe the look of terror from his face. "Sam…son, wake up. You're safe now…you're safe," John pled.

Sam began to cry and whimper, his eyes still focused on something that wasn't really there. John took one hand away from his youngest's face and slapped him lightly on the cheek. When that didn't bring Sam out of his dream, he hit him a little harder, garnishing glares from his other two sons. Sam suddenly stopped crying and looked at his father, his hazel eyes wide with surprise. John didn't care though, because Sam was truly looking at him, and not whatever scene had been playing out in his nightmare.

"D'd?" Sam questioned, his fingers reaching for his father's face.

"Yeah, kiddo. You okay?" John answered, taking Sam's hand in his.

"They're dead, Dad. Not supposed to be them…supposed to be me," Sam whispered, tears falling from his soulful eyes.

"It was just a dream, Sam…"

"No…they're dead. I saw them. Oh god, Dad…Dean…"

"Sam, what did you see?" John questioned, his stomach dropping at the mention of Dean.

"Werewolf…David Gregory I think. He…he killed them. He killed them all…"

Sam's eyes took on a faraway look and John had to shake him again to bring him back. "Sam…it was a nightmare…"

"Frank's dead…Danny's dead…Dean's…oh god…Dad, I'm so sorry…"

"Sammy, listen to me. It was a dream…"

"Wh-what?"

Dean reached across and pulled Sam's face around to him. "Sammy…I'm fine. Danny's fine. Frank is with the uncles. We're not dead, kiddo. We're here and you're safe," he said softly.

Sam pulled back in confusion, his gaze moving from Dean's face to Danny's, who stood looking over Dean's shoulder. He lifted his hand to Dean's face, his trembling fingers touching his brother's face tentatively. "But…I saw…it was real. He t-took your head, and I…"

"No, Sam. It wasn't real. The werewolf is dead," Danny said, his hand moving to Sam's leg and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Sam turned his gaze onto Daniel, his tears continuing to fall. "D-Danny…I'm so sorry," he whispered, his breath hitching, hand moving to his chest as if in pain.

"Sammy? Are you okay? What's wrong, kiddo?" John queried, his eyes moving over his youngest with great concern.

"H-Hurts…c-can't breathe…" Sam gasped, his face paling as he tried to draw in air.

The monitors next to Sam's bed began to wail, the heart monitor showing his heart beating at an accelerated pace and his oxygen levels dropping dramatically. Within moments, the door to Sam's room swung open and two nurses rushed immediately to the bed.

"What happened!?" one nurse, Shelly, shouted as she checked Sam's chest.

"He had a nightmare. It really upset him," John explained, his eyes never leaving his baby's ashen face.

"We need the doctor in here…now!" the second nurse exclaimed.

"He's on his way," Shelly replied.

Just then, the door opened and Dr. Sontey hurried into the room. He rushed to Sam's side, moving John out of the way. "How long has he been like this?" the doctor asked as he laid Sam back against his pillows.

"Uh…not long. He had a bad nightmare and we were trying to convince him it wasn't real, and then he just grabbed his chest and said he couldn't breathe," Dean cried, gazing at his brother worriedly.

"What's wrong with him?" Daniel queried shakily.

"He's having a panic attack. We need to sedate him," Dr. Sontey answered.

"No! I don't…want to…sleep! They're…there when…I sleep…" Sam cried between gasps, his hand clutching tightly to his chest.

"We have to calm you down, Sam. If you don't calm down, you could end up back on the ventilator," Dr. Sontey explained evenly.

"Just…let us try first, doc. Please?" Dean pled.

Dr. Sontey looked between the Winchester men then back at Sam before he reluctantly nodded and moved aside. John moved back into his place next to the bed and took Sam's face once again into his hands. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched Sam struggle for air and he hoped they could calm him before the boy had to be intubated again.

"Sam…look at me," he said, caressing Sam's cheeks until his glassy eyes raised up to meet his. "Please, calm down. Breathe with me, Sammy…in…out…in…out.

John took deep breaths in, then slowly exhaled, coaxing Sam to follow suit. Tears streamed from Sam's eyes as stared at his father, trying to follow his breaths to ease the pain in his chest. Dean moved around the bed to stand next to his father so that he was in Sam's line of vision. Daniel stood on the other side of the bed, his hand massaging Sam's shoulders, knowing how well his baby brother reacted to touch.

"Sammy…we're here, okay? We're not dead. Frank is with Bobby and the others," Dean said softly, smiling warmly when Sam's dazed eyes moved to him. "It was just a dream."

"D'n?" Sam whispered, his breaths finally starting to calm and color slowly beginning to return to his face.

"Yeah, kiddo…it's me. Danny's right behind you."

Sam looked over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Daniel's. Daniel squeezed Sam's shoulders lightly and smiled. "Hey, kiddo. How you feeling now?"

"Danny…you're…y…"

"I'm right here, Sam. I'm not dead. We're all fine," Daniel said, his hand moving down Sam's arm reassuringly.

"It…it was a dream?"

"Yeah, Sammy. It was just a dream. We're all here…we're all fine," Daniel said in reply.

Sam sagged against the mattress, his hand loosening from his chest. He took in several deep breaths, the pain in his chest easing with each one. His eyes were shut tight against the dizziness that the lack of oxygen had caused and he only opened them when he felt the room stop spinning. He looked up into the concerned eyes of his brother then turned to his father and other brother on the opposite side of the bed. He smiled weakly.

"I-I'm okay now. 'm s'ry I scared ya. So stupid," he whispered, his face flushing with embarrassment.

John squeezed Sam's arm and smiled when Sam's eyes moved to him. "Don't, Sam. You have nothing to be sorry for and you certainly have nothing to be embarrassed about. We expected your nightmares…just weren't prepared for them to be so…graphic."

Sam nodded sluggishly, flinching slightly when Dr. Sontey moved back to his side. "I just need to check you over, Sam. Is that okay?" the doctor said.

"Yeah…'s 'kay"

Dr. Sontey checked Sam's pupils and listened to his heart and lungs, his concern for his young patient evident in his eyes. He watched the monitors beside Sam's bed, finally smiling in satisfaction when Sam's heartbeat took on a more normal rhythm and his oxygen saturation rose to a more satisfactory level. He smiled down at the young man, noting the paleness in his face had been replaced by a more healthy pink.

" Well, Sam…you gave us a good scare, but it looks like there's been no lasting damage. You dodged this one, but we can't have you doing that anymore, okay?" the doctor said.

"Sorry, Dr. Sontey. I didn't…I…"

"Don't apologize, Sam. You have been through more than any person should ever have to go through. Nightmares are to be expected. Unfortunately for you, your nightmares are more realistic than most people's," Dr. Sontey said, smiling down at his young patient.

Sam smiled softly and looked up at the doctor with sad eyes. "I'm such a pain to everyone," he whispered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

Danny took Sam's hand and squeezed lightly. "You are not a pain, Sammy. Don't say things like that."

"It's true though, Danny. I'm nothing but trouble for everyone. I don't know why you guys even stick around me…"

"Stop it, Sam," John said, his dark eyes flashing angrily at his youngest's words.

"'m sorry, Dad, but it's true. I was trouble for Mom…for Alisa…"

"That's enough! I'm not listening to this. We've been through this, Sam. You aren't responsible for Mom's death and you aren't responsible for Alisa's either," Dean shouted, toning down his voice when Sam flinched.

Sam lowered his head, his fingers fiddling nervously with the sheet that lay across his lap. "I may not be responsible for Mom, but you can't say I'm not for Alisa. She died because she was with me. I knew…"

"Okay, this isn't going to solve anything. Sam…you didn't know who was following you or that they meant you harm. You had no way of knowing what would happen," John said, reaching down to gently pull Sam's face up.

"I wasn't supposed to go anywhere without one of you, but I still went on that walk with Alisa, knowing that someone was stalking me. I should've known that something would happen…with my luck? If I'd have just listened to you, she'd still be alive. I can't ever be with anyone again, 'cause if I am, they'll die and I can't be responsible for anymore deaths. I just can't," Sam whispered, tears once more filling his eyes.

"Sammy," Daniel started, his own eyes bright. "I thought we were over all of this. How did we get onto this again anyway? You aren't to blame. God, I wish we didn't have to go through this again."

Sam gazed up at his eldest brother, his eyes filled with such sadness and misery, it nearly took Daniel's breath away. "'m sorry, Danny. Guess I just can't do anything without screwing up, huh?" he said softly.

Sam rolled onto his side and pulled the covers up over his shoulder. He curled into himself and closed his eyes, effectively shutting out his family as they stood around the bed, staring down at him in bewilderment.

"Sammy," Daniel whispered as he reached out to touch his brother's shoulder.

Sam shifted away from the touch and turned his head deeper into the pillow. "I'm tired. I just want to go to sleep," he said softly.

Daniel pulled back and looked over at his father and brother. They both shook their heads, knowing that sleep was the last thing Sam truly wanted. "Sam," John started, his deep voice uncharacteristically tender.

"Just…you guys need to eat. You should go get some breakfast. I'll be fine…I just need to be alone for awhile. I'm sorry I bummed everyone out," Sam said, the young man turning onto his back and staring up at his father.

"We can't leave you alone, Sammy…" Dean started, shaking his head at the notion.

"I'll be fine, Dean. I'm not going anywhere and the bad guy is dead, so…"

"Sam's right. You should all go get something to eat. There's plenty of nurses and orderlies to keep an eye on him, plus I'm sure his uncles and Frank will be here soon," Dr. Sontey said.

John looked at the doctor then at each son. Finally, he nodded, stopping his two older son's protests with a raise of his hand. "If Sam needs a little time alone, then we're going to give him that. We'll be right down in the cafeteria if you need us, kiddo," he said.

Sam nodded appreciatively and rolled back onto his side, his eyes closing immediately. John watched his youngest for a moment longer before motioning to Dean and Daniel to follow him out of the room. The young men reluctantly obeyed despite their reservations. Dr. Sontey followed the men out, the nurses having already left. Once they were out in the hall, John turned to the doctor.

"You keep a close eye on him, doc. That kid means everything to us," John said.

"I'll put an orderly on his door, John. Nobody will go in unless it's one of you or a nurse. I promise," Dr. Sontey replied.

John nodded then reluctantly started down the hall, his boys trailing close behind him. Dean looked back over his shoulder, already missing his baby brother and wishing he was there with him.

"We'll get you through this, Sammy. I promise, we'll get you through this," he said to himself, desperately praying that he could keep that promise.

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**So, that's the chapter. Please let me know what you think.**

**Cindy.**


	28. Chapter 28

**So, here is the next chapter. I'm not too sure about it, I think it may be a bit boring. I really did have a hard time with it. I hope it doesn't disappoint.**

**Cindy.**

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Sam lay on his side, waiting for the sound of the door closing so that he'd know he was alone. Once he was sure that no one else was in the room, Sam rolled back over until he lay on his back. He stared up at the ceiling for several long minutes, silent tears rolling lazily down from his eyes before catching in his soft hair. Why was this happening to him yet again? Why couldn't he escape the nightmares that left him paralyzed with fear, his family made to watch as he struggled with the scenes that played constantly in his head every time he went to sleep? They certainly didn't deserve to go through this again. They said it was their fault he had been attacked, but it wasn't. If he weren't so weak, if he didn't have the perpetual supernatural target on his back, none of what had happened to him over the past few years would have ever taken place. He was sure it went back to that fateful night in his nursery. The night when evil came to visit him and killed his mother for getting in the way. There was something inside of him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it was the cause of all of his family's troubles.

If it weren't for him, his family would have a normal life. Yes, he'd been through this time and time again with his family and they had even convinced him at one time that he wasn't to blame, but how could they keep believing that? How could they continue lying to themselves? Danger and heartbreak followed him like the plague and although he never asked for it, there it was just the same. He wondered for what had to be the thousandth time why he had been spared that night. Why he had lived and his mother had died. Then again, seventeen years later why he had lived while Alisa had been taken away from those who loved her. Surely, she deserved to live more than he did. Sweet, beautiful Alisa, the light of so many peoples lives. A light that he had been responsible for extinguishing, if not by his own hand then by his silence. His family could try all they liked to persuade him that Alisa's death was not his fault, but he fact of the matter was just the opposite. He had known something sinister was after him, yet he had remained silent and had gone against his family when he took that walk with his girl. She would be alive if he hadn't been so blind.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, more tears falling as his thoughts turned to his long dead girlfriend. She'd had so much to offer the world and now she was gone. All because of him and the curse that was his life. Her family had been forced to live without her bright, beautiful smile and her soul lifting laughter and for what? Because she'd had the misfortune of meeting and falling for him. Sam lifted his arms and draped them over his burning eyes, grieving sobs wracking his thin frame. The loss of his sweet Alisa still haunted Sam, the wound still open and raw. He would never get over that loss, no matter how hard he tried. The only thing that would end the pain of losing her would be his death. Sam had thought many times about taking the easy road and ending his pain, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. His love and respect for his family kept him from taking that path time and time again. They had fought so hard and lost so much to save him and to keep him safe. How could he purposely take his own life after all of that? It would be like a slap in the face, and he just couldn't do that to them.

"Oh god, Alisa. I miss you so much," Sam whispered, his voice hitching as his sobs continued.

Sam's sobs eventually subsided and he lifted his arms from over his red, swollen eyes. He knew his family would return soon and he didn't want them to see him crying yet again. It seemed to be all he did anymore and he was so tired of it all. As if on cue, the door to Sam's room opened, but the boy was surprised by who was moving through the opening. Bobby stepped into the room, his face lighting up with a bright smile when he saw Sam looking at him with wide, tired looking eyes.

"Hey, Sam. How are you feeling?" Bobby queried as he moved toward Sam's bed.

"I'm fine, Bobby," Sam said softly, his gaze moving from the grizzled man to the others who followed behind him. "Hey Caleb and Joshua. Wh-where's Frank?" he asked, his voice shaky as he peered around the hunters to look for the missing doctor.

Sam's heart began to beat faster as his mind went back to his nightmare and the sight of the kind doctor laying on the ground, surrounded by blood, his eyes wide open and lifeless. Accusing. Sam flinched when Joshua's deep voice interrupted his morbid thoughts.

"He saw your dad and brothers down in the cafeteria and decided to join them for a bite to eat," the tall hunter replied.

"Hey…you okay, kiddo? You look a bit pale," Caleb questioned, the man moving to the side of Sam's bed and resting his hand reassuringly on Sam's shoulder.

Sam looked up at his friend and managed a small smile. "I'm fine, Caleb. J-just thought Frank would be with you is all," he answered softly.

Caleb smiled and squeezed lightly on Sam's shoulder. "Hey, you want to sit up a bit? You been flat for way too long if you ask me," the smiling hunter asked.

"Uh…yeah, sure…a little bit maybe," Sam replied, wincing slightly as Caleb raised the top of the bed, the movement aggravating Sam's injuries.

Caleb stopped when Sam hissed and eyed his young friend with concern. "Is that too much, Sammy? Do you need it down some?"

"N-no…just need to get used to the change in position. I'll be okay, Caleb. Thank you," Sam said, sending the men in the room a slight smile.

"We were really worried about you, kiddo. You gave us all quite a scare," Bobby said as he moved to the other side of the bed, opposite Caleb.

Sam dropped his eyes to his lap and nervously fiddled with the sheet. "'m sorry, Bobby. Didn't mean to scare you all," he whispered.

Bobby grasped Sam's arm and stopped his fiddling, the boy lifting his sad eyes to the older hunter. "Hey, it wasn't your fault, Sam. We're the ones who didn't burn Randy Gregory's body. He got to you because we didn't finish the hunt."

"It's not your fault, Bobby. None of yours," Sam said softly.

"Well, it's not yours either, you hear me, boy?"

Sam gazed up at Bobby and nodded lightly. He smiled at the other men and settled against his pillows, his eyes drooping as sleep called for him once again. He fought against the pull, not wanting to see what lay beyond the waking world again. The three hunters watched as the boy fought to stay awake, curious as to why he fought so hard.

Hey, Sam. Just go to sleep. We'll be here until your dad and brothers get back, don't worry," Joshua said, the tall, muscular man standing at the foot of the bed and watching his young friend with concern.

"Don't w-want to sleep, Joshua. They're there waiting for me," Sam slurred, the boy slowly losing the battle to stay awake, the sedatives still heavy in his system.

"Who's there, Sammy?" Caleb wondered aloud.

"They killed everyone…my fault," Sam whispered before his eyes closed completely and his breaths evened out in sleep.

The three hunters eyed each other nervously, hoping that the Winchesters could fill them in on what they had obviously missed. They settled themselves around the bed and waited for the others to arrive, their curiosity growing with each passing minute.

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John and his boys entered the hospital cafeteria and walked up to the line, their eyes moving over the offered food items even though none of them were very hungry. They knew they had to eat to keep their strength up for Sam, but the sight of the boy when they left his hospital room had stolen any appetite they'd had. They all ordered toast and coffee and soon were sitting at a table near the entrance to the eatery, enabling them to watch the comings and goings at the main entrance to the hospital. They ate in silence and sipped their coffee, wanting nothing more than to rush back up to Sam's room despite the boy's wish to be alone for awhile. They all knew what had happened in the past when Sam had been left alone and for them to be down here while Sam was alone went against all of their instincts to watch over the boy.

"So, um…how long we have to stay down here?" Dean questioned, the young man practically bouncing in his seat, his eyes moving to the lobby and the bank of elevators that eventually would take them back to Sam.

John eyed his son, one eyebrow raised, a small grin lifting the edges of his lips. "We just got here, Dean. Give the kid a few more minutes before you go running back up there. He'll be fine," the man said gruffly.

Dean looked at his father and frowned. "Did you see him, Dad? For God's sake, the kid is so messed up. We just got him convinced that he wasn't to blame for any of the sh*t that's gone down, and now he's right back to thinking he's at fault for Mom and Alisa dying."

"I know, Dean, but we have to let him have the space he needs. It's just as hard for me to be sitting here when I know I should be there with him, but if Sam needs to be alone then we have to abide by his wishes," John said.

Dean dropped his head into his hands, his elbows resting on the table. His father and older brother watched him, knowing exactly how he felt. None of them wanted to be here while Sam was there, but they really had no choice. Dean scrubbed his hands over his face and gazed up at his family. John was taken aback by how much older than his true age his son appeared. John glanced across to his eldest son and saw the same lines in his young face. He shook his head sadly, knowing it was this life that they had been forced into that had prematurely put those lines there, and that the events surrounding Sam were responsible for the majority of them. He cursed the creature who had started this whole ball rolling, leading them into the life they lived now. A life that put a target on his youngest son, more so than anyone else in his family. Sam had been targeted that night, John was sure of it, and nothing had changed. He was still the one the baddies went after the most and for that reason, John had kept him as far from the hunts his family undertook as he possibly could. Unfortunately, his vigilance didn't seem to stop Sam from becoming a victim more often than not. Sam had been hundreds of miles away when they had taken David Gregory out, but still Sam paid the price for that hunt and was still paying it.

Daniel glanced around the table, his heart heavy. His family had been through so much and he wished that he could stop the pain that they were all feeling right now, especially Sam. The poor kid had been through more than any of them and yet he still was kicking, worrying more about them than he was about himself. What worried Daniel the most was the way Sam took everything onto his young shoulders. The guilt and the blame…he took it all on. The way he blamed himself for their mother's death, for Alisa's death scared Daniel more than any of the supernatural beings they hunted. He feared that one day, Sam wouldn't be able to handle the weight anymore. Sam was so afraid that he would cause the death of more of his family, and Daniel knew that Sam would rather die than lose one more person he loved. He wouldn't put it past his baby brother to take his own life to prevent harm to come to one of them no matter how far off the mark he was about his culpability.

Daniel gazed toward the entryway of the cafeteria and smiled softly when he saw Frank peek his head in then head toward their table. "Frank, pull up a chair," he said, pulling the chair beside him out for the doctor the sit on.

Frank smiled and sat down, his eyes moving over the Winchesters, the morose on their faces taking is smile away. "Has something happened to Sam?" he asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"He…uh…he had a bad nightmare. We had a hard time bringing him out of it and then he had a panic attack. He couldn't breathe," Dean said, his eyes dropping to the formica top of the table.

"Oh, guys…I'm sorry. He'll be okay though…you know that, right?" Frank said, his gaze moving to each man before settling on John's face.

"These nightmares are worse than the ones he had after both Wilcox's were done with him," John replied, his normally strong voice low and subdued. "I don't know if he'll be okay this time."

"Did he tell you about his dream?" the doctor queried.

"Not much. All he would say was that Dean, you and I were killed by the werewolf. He honestly thought we were dead, no matter how much we tried to convince him. He almost got himself put back on the ventilator," Daniel answered.

"Does he finally know that it was just a dream?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, but now he's back on this whole guilt trip, blaming himself for every bad thing that has happened to our family, starting with the night our mom was killed," Dean said.

"But, wasn't he just six months old?"

"Yeah, but it looks as though the thing that killed Mary was there for Sam. Why, we don't know," John answered, eyeing his boys and seeing their discomfort at his words.

Frank shook his head, cursing under his breath. He looked up, his eyes filled with anger. "What could this thing possibly want with a six month old child?" he asked.

"Like I said, we don't know. We're almost certain it's a demon though. Twice now we've encountered this yellow eyed man and both times he was focused on Sam. Sam said he has had dreams of a yellow eyed man standing over his crib," John answered.

"So, the yellow eyes makes you believe it's a demon?"

"Yeah, plus the things we've seen it do," Daniel said, glancing at his father and brother.

"So, this yellow eyed man was in Sam's nursery and what? Your wife got in it's way?"

John dropped his head, sensing his boys discomfort without having to see their reactions to the doctor's question.

"Oh, John…boys, I'm sorry. That's a bit too personal," Frank said, his face flushing.

John looked up and shook his head. "No…it's fine, Frank. You've helped my family so much, especially Sam. You are a part of this now, whether you want to be or not and you deserve to know everything we do."

"So…uh…yeah. We think the demon, if that's what it is, killed Mom because she somehow got in the way of whatever it was doing to Sam," Daniel said softly, the young man reaching across the table to grasp his brother's arm, the younger brother seemingly overcome with emotion.

John lifted his arm and crossed it over Dean's back, the man pulling his son to his side to offer whatever comfort he could. Dean sniffed several times then rubbed his hand under his nose. "Sorry…I just…sorry," he said softly.

"It's okay, Dean. We are all feeling the same thing here," John said.

John turned to Frank and cleared his throat. "So, uh…where are the others at anyway?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Oh…they went on up to see Sam. We saw you in here, but they wanted to get up to the kid," Frank answered.

"Well then, I guess we better get up there too. I think we've given Sam enough time alone," Dean said, the young man already rising from his seat and heading to the door.

John shook his head, but was standing just a few seconds later, Daniel right there with him. Frank chuckled as he rose and followed the men to the elevators. The four entered the first elevator that opened and made their way up to Sam's floor. They stepped off the lift and headed to the ICU, coming to Sam's door just a few moments later. They pushed through the door, John smiling as he saw his friends surrounding Sam as the young man slept, seemingly peacefully.

"How long has he been asleep?" Daniel asked as he neared the bed and shook Caleb's hand.

"Uh, not long. He was awake when we came in, but the poor kid couldn't keep his eyes open," the hunter replied.

Daniel nodded and moved to the side of the bed, smiling down at his baby brother. He ruffled Sam's hair affectionately then looked up at his father as the man moved to the bed.

"How was he when you came in?" John asked as he looked up at his friends.

"Uh, he was a bit down. Asked about Frank like he was scared he wouldn't see him again," Bobby answered, hoping to have an answer to his unasked question.

"Yeah, he had a bad nightmare. Frank and the boys were apparently torn apart by the werewolf. We had a hard time convincing him that it was just a dream," John replied.

"Shit…poor kid. I knew something was up," Joshua said.

"He just is so confused and scared," Daniel offered from his spot near his brother.

Dean walked to Daniel's side and leaned against the bed, his eyes taking in the peaceful look on Sam's sleeping face. He smiled slightly, hoping that Sam would remain this peaceful for awhile so that he could get some restful sleep. The poor kid truly needed it so that he could get healthier and stronger.

"So, when does he get out of here?" Bobby asked.

"Uh, Dr. Sontey didn't say. I don't think Sam's panic attack helped any, but we're hoping he at least can get out of the ICU," John replied, his gaze moving to his youngest.

"Well, let's hope that happens soon," Caleb said, hating to see any of his family lying in a hospital bed, especially the youngest of their family.

John looked around the room, counting his blessings for the friends who surrounded he and his family. He looked down at Sam and smiled. "It's up to Sammy now. All we can do is support him and keep him calm when one of the nightmares hit. He has to do the rest."

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**Well, there it is. Please let me know what you think.**

**Cindy**


	29. Chapter 29

**Hey all. Thank you so much for your support on this story. I'm sorry it took so long to get the next chapter up. I hope you enjoy it. **

**Cindy.**

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"So, Sammy…are you ready to blow this popsicle stand?" Dean queried as he plopped down on the end of Sam's hospital bed.

Sam glanced up through chocolate fringe and smiled softly. "Yeah…I guess so," he said, his voice so low that Dean could barely make out what he said.

"What? Did you say I guess so?" Dean asked, the young man moving up the bed so he was next to Sam's side. "Don't you want to get out of here? I mean, yeah, the nurses are hot enough and all, but the food sucks, and they have no apple pie. Who the heck doesn't have apple pie?"

"Dean…I…" Sam said, his eyes dropping to his lap.

"Sammy, what's wrong? Why aren't you happy about getting out of this crap hole?" Dean asked, more than a little confused.

Sam fiddled with the sheet that was draped across his lap, his shaggy hair hiding his eyes from his concerned brother. Dean reached out and gently lifted Sam's face, his fingers beneath his brother's chin. His heart broke a little when he saw tears in the sad eyes that stared back at him. "Sam…"

"I want to go, I do, Dean, its just…I…sh*t…I don't know what's wrong with me," Sam cried, dipping his head toward his shoulder when Dean grasped it gently.

"Sammy, nothing is wrong with you. You've been through a lot, that's all. You've only been out of the ICU for three days. Its okay to feel a little bit scared," Dean said, his hand squeezing Sam's shoulder comfortingly.

"I'm not scared, well, yeah I am, but that's not it. I just don't know…I don't know what I'm going to do," Sam replied softly.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Sammy. What is it that you don't know?"

"I don't know if I should go back to school or stay with you guys. I-I really want to go back to school, but I don't want any of my friends hurt because of me. But, if I stay with you guys…uh…one of you could get hurt or worse and I just couldn't live with that. I don't know what to do, Dean," Sam cried, his face flushing a soft pink as he stared desperately into his brother's eyes.

Dean dropped his head, the young man sighing deeply. He looked up, wishing he could erase that look from Sam's face. "Sammy…you can't do that. We've been through this, kiddo. You aren't to blame for anything that's happened. Not in Santa Cruz and not now…"

"I've been a jinx my whole life, ever since I was a baby I…"

"Stop it, Sam. I don't want to hear it anymore. You weren't to blame for Mom, nor Alisa. You can't keep doing this. We can't keep going through this with you," Dean said as he grasped Sam's forearm firmly.

"I didn't tell her, Dean. I didn't tell her someone was following me and she died trying to protect me. How many more have to die trying to protect me!? You and Danny, Frank…you were all hurt because Randy Gregory was after me and…"

"Randy Gregory was after you because of what we did, Sammy. You were hurt because of us, not the other way around."

Sam dropped his head, the boy pulling his arm away and crossing both arms across his stomach. "I should have stopped it. When I first saw that guy, I knew something was up with him, but I didn't do anything. I'm weak…can't even take care of myself…"

"You're just bound and determined to make this your fault aren't you? Well, no matter how you twist it around, it'll never be your fault, Sammy. You couldn't have stopped that demon from putting the stink eye on you. And Alisa? If Dad and I hadn't been such dicks to begin with, you never would have come in contact with Michael Wilcox, meaning you never would have had Trenton Wilcox on your ass, meaning you and Alisa never would have been attacked. It's not your fault! None of it is your fault!"

Sam flinched at Dean's outburst, the younger man watching as his brother abruptly stood and began to pace the hospital room. Dean scrubbed his hand through his cropped hair as he paced and muttered to himself. He turned and stopped, eyeing his brother from across the room. Seeing Sam's wide, frightened eyes, he crossed the room and sat once again next to the kid.

"Sammy, you aren't to blame, okay? If you keep this up, you're going to end up killing yourself. You barely eat or sleep and when you do sleep, you have those freakin' nightmares about me and the others getting killed. This guilt is eating you alive, kiddo. I can't watch you destroy yourself anymore. I just can't, Sammy," Dean cried, his eyes pleading with his brother to understand.

Sam stared at his brother, the young man seeing the pain and desperation in the green eyes that stared back at him. He hated that he put that look there. "I'm sorry, Dean. The last thing I wanted was to make you mad at me…"

"I'm not mad at you, Sammy. I'm worried about you. I can't stand to see you like this. Neither can Dad or Danny, or any of the others. It kills us to see you like this. We really don't know what else to do. You have to stop it…you have to forgive yourself."

Sam dropped his head again and sighed. "I'll try, Dean. I promise, I'll try," he said softly.

Dean smiled warmly and reached out to lift Sam's face. "That's a start, kiddo."

Sam smiled in return and lifted his hand, lightly slugging Dean's arm. "So, when are you breaking me out of here?"

"Dad's with Dr. Sontey now, trying to get him to release you. Hopefully you can get out of here today," Dean answered, welcoming the break in the storm, but knowing there were more stormy days ahead. Sam was a Winchester after all, and guilt was a standard operating procedure in their life.

"Really? I could get out today?"

"Yep. Dad's working on it as we speak."

"So, where's Danny? Usually I have the both of you hanging over me."

"Oh, he's around. He should be here shortly," Dean answered with a grin.

"What? What are you guys up to?" Sam asked, suddenly nervous.

"Don't worry, little brother. It's all good," Dean said, both young men turning as the door opened and the object of their conversation stealthily entered the room, a package tucked safely under his arm.

"Hey, Sammy. You're awake," Daniel said as he strolled across the room and went to the side of the bed opposite Dean.

Sam smiled and took in deep breath. He could smell the aroma from the bag Daniel had snuck in and he eyed his oldest sibling, wondering what the young man was holding behind his back.

"What's in the bag, Danny?" Sam asked, his smile widening when Daniel revealed what he'd kept hidden.

"Strawberry milkshake, extra strawberries, just for you, baby brother," Daniel said as he handed the tall paper cup to Sam.

Sam took the cup and grinned up at his brother. "Won't you get in trouble for bringing that in here?" he asked as he pulled in a long sip from the straw.

"Hey, I figured you need to get some meat on those scrawny bones of yours. The food they expect you to eat here ain't gonna do the trick, so I took matters into my own hands," Daniel answered as he reached for the bag and started to pull paper wrapped items out.

Daniel handed Dean two of the items, the middle brother ripping through the paper in a second. "Double cheeseburger, extra onions and…oh yeah, apple pie! You are the king, big brother!" he cried as he brought the cheeseburger up to his drooling mouth.

"It's about time you acknowledge my superiority, little brother," Daniel exclaimed with a small bow.

Sam chuckled at his brother's antics as he sucked on the straw, savoring the sweet, cold beverage. He set the milkshake down on his tray table and took the package that Daniel finally offered him. He opened the wrapper and smiled up at his brother.

"I was gonna get you a big ole greasy cheeseburger, but figured it might not settle too well. I hope that works for you," Daniel said as he unwrapped his own food.

"It looks great, Danny. Thanks," Sam said, the boy immediately beginning to devour the grilled chicken sandwich his brother had brought for him.

Sam hadn't thought he would ever have an appetite again, but the aroma from the sandwich made his mouth water and he greedily consumed it, the kid moaning softly as he closed his eyes and savored each bite. Dean and Daniel watched him closely, both chuckling at the happy noises their baby brother was making.

"Hey, Sammy. You want Danny and I to leave you alone with that sandwich. Give you a little privacy?" Dean quipped as he popped the last bite of his cheeseburger into his mouth.

Sam gazed up at his brothers, a red blush coloring his cheeks when he realized what he'd been doing. "Shut up," he hissed, a grin curling his lips.

Sam continued to eat, his brothers watching him through sideways glances so as not to make the kid nervous. Inside, both men were rejoicing. Sam's smiles seemed genuine, not forced and he was eating. He'd mainly picked at his food and his young body showed the lack of calories and nutrients in the way the hospital tee shirt and sleep pants hung from his bony frame. Sam eased back against his pillows with a satisfied, the last bite of his sandwich having been consumed. He reached for the milkshake and began to suck on the straw again, his eyes closing as the icecream cooled his scratchy throat. He was still having a bit of troubles with his throat, both from the near strangulation and the vent tube. Dean and Daniel watched Sam, both men praying that the worst was behind them and that their Sammy would return to them soon. They had begun to see glimpses of the old Sam in these past minutes and both had high hopes that their baby brother would continue to improve, losing the nightmares and panic attacks that struck without warning. They would have their Sammy back because he was stronger than the evil that had yet again touched him. He would rise above the pain and fear because he was a Winchester and that's Winchesters did.

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John sat in Dr. Sontey's office, the hunter gazing around at the doctor's credentials and pictures that decorated the walls of the small room. The doctor had been called away for a few moments, leaving John to his thoughts. Having looked at every picture and diploma several times over, John settled back in the cushioned chair and closed his eyes. Sam had been moved from ICU three days prior and his physical condition had been steadily improving, all except his appetite. They had to keep him on IV's just to make sure he was getting some nutrition into his injured body. His throat seemed to still give him some problems, but Dr. Sontey had assured them that it was normal considering the abuse it had taken and the subsequent vent tube needed to keep it from closing. The various injuries he'd sustained when Randy Gregory's spirit had attacked him were healing nicely, the bruises and scrapes disappearing a little more each day.

The emotional trauma was a different story. The poor kid still suffered the terrifying nightmares, usually witnessing some other horrific way in which his family was taken from him. The nightmares were terrible, but the panic attacks were even worse. They struck without warning most times, very few coming after the nightmares anymore. It would be like Sam was in a different place, fighting an unseen foe and screaming his family's names. There were a few that required him to be sedated, but thankfully that hadn't been necessary the past few days. They had been able to talk him through the attacks, and Sam seemed to be able to cope much better once he had calmed down. He still held a haunted look in his eyes, but John was sure that with time and encouragement Sam would come back to them, maybe not quite the same as he was before, but anything was better than the shell of a young man this latest drama had turned him into.

John was startled out of his thoughts, the man realizing he had been dozing off, when the door to the office opened and Dr. Sontey strolled in, the man moving around his desk and taking a seat in his leather chair. Dr. Sontey smiled at John as he clasped his hands together and placed them on his desk.

"So, John, we were debating the benefits of releasing Sam early and you know how I feel about that," Dr. Sontey started.

"Yes, I know you want to keep him for another week, but I think that releasing him would be the best thing. Sam has never done well in hospitals and he's been in so many the past few years, I'm afraid that being here is keeping him from moving past his nightmares and panic attacks," John explained, hoping to gain some ground with the doctor who had taken such an interest in his youngest son's recovery.

"I understand, John, but Sam still isn't eating enough and the panic attacks are still a major concern," the doctor countered.

"No offense, but the food they try to feed my boy is crap. It's no wonder he won't eat it. I guarantee that once we get Sam out of here, he'll start eating better. He's been dealing with the panic attacks and nightmares much better these past days. Sam always does best in a more familiar setting. We plan to take him to his Uncle Bobby's place to finish his recovery. He practically grew up there. I really think it's the best place for him now," John said.

Dr. Sontey seemed to consider John's words before he leaned forward and looked the man in the eyes. "Can you promise me that Sam will be looked after diligently?" he asked firmly.

John shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Have you seen how Dean and Danny hover over that boy? He won't be able to scratch himself without one of them noticing. I can promise you with one hundred percent certainty that Sam will be looked after to the point that he will be climbing the walls," John replied.

"I suppose his daddy and uncles will be a bit on the hovering side too, no?" Dr. Sontey said with a smile.

"Yeah, you got us. We generally try to leave the hovering to the boys, but sometimes something comes over us and we just can't help ourselves," John answered.

Dr. Sontey chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. He lifted his arms and clutched his hands together behind his head. He eyed the man he'd come to know as someone who protected his family fiercely. Someone he'd never want to be on the receiving end of his anger. That did not play into his decision however. His patient came first, no matter how intimidating his father could be.

"Okay. I'm going to release Sam, but on the promise that you will follow my instructions to the letter. One thing I want to be sure of is that you stick around for a few days so that I can check him over before you take him on a long road trip," Dr. Sontey said.

John smiled, his body visibly relaxing in the seat. "Thanks, doc. I'll bring Sam back here in a few days, let you check him over before we head out to Bobby's. Just give me a list of your instructions and I promise we will stick to it religiously."

"I'll get the paperwork going and get Sam's prescriptions in order. Give me a few hours to get everything in order. I'll have the nurse come in and remove his IV and then you can get him dressed and ready to go," Dr. Sontey said.

"Thanks. Sam is going to be very happy," John replied as he rose from his chair. He shook the doctors hand then turned and left the office.

John walked to the elevators and entered the first one to open then pushed the button for Sam's floor. He exited the lift and headed for Sam's room, pushing through the door, smiling at the scene before him. Dean and Daniel sat on either side of Sam's bed, the poor kid squashed between them, a soft warm smile on his still pale face. John hadn't seen a genuine smile on his baby's face since this whole nightmare had started and it lifted his spirits to see it now. Sam was sucking happily on what looked like a milkshake and John smiled when his hazel eyes looked up and met his.

"Dad…hi," Sam said softly as he put down the cup he was holding.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?" John replied as he neared the foot of the bed.

"I'm good," Sam answered.

"Are you ready for some good news?" John queried.

"Am I getting out of here?" Sam asked hopefully, the boy reaching up to brush unruly hair from his eyes.

"You got it, Sammy. Dr. Sontey wasn't too keen on the idea until I convinced him that with the two mother hens here, you'd be well taken care of," John said as he reached down and gently squeezed Sam's foot.

"Hey! We don't mother hen! Well, maybe my sister Danny does, but definitely not me," Dean exclaimed, offended at the title he'd been given.

"Yeah, Dean. You don't mother hen at all. Because Sam really needed you to wipe his chin after he had his soup last night. It was a life or death situation needing a big, strong manly hunter, not a mother hen," Daniel quipped with a smirk.

Dean glared at Daniel, his eyes shooting daggers at his older brother. He turned incredulous eyes on his baby brother when Sam began to chuckle, the kid trying to hide his laughter.

"Oh, you think that's funny? It just so happens that the soup was hot and it could have burned you, but hey, the next time I'll just let it eat the skin off your chin," Dean cried defensively, smacking Sam's arm lightly.

""m sorry…but, you…gotta admit…it was a bit…grandmotherly," Sam cried, trying to hold in the giggles that were fighting to break free.

"Wow, that's gratitude for you. Try to do something helpful, and all you get is made fun of," Dean muttered to himself.

Sam quieted his giggles and gazed at his brother. "Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh," he said softly.

Dean turned to Sam and immediately reached out to grasp his arm. "Hey…Sammy, it's okay. I was just kidding," he said.

Sam looked up at him and smiled. Dean smiled back then turned to John. "Okay, so as long as we smother the kid, never give him a moment to himself, make sure he eats all of vegetables, he can go?" he asked.

John stood and shook his head at his son's antics. They were sounding more like the boys he raised, the banter that previously drove him to the edge at times music to his weary ears. "Yes, as long as we make sure Sam takes his meds, eats and gets plenty of rest, he will be able to go today," John said with a chuckle.

"Alrighty then, lets get him ready to go," Dean said.

"Uh…hello…I'm right here," Sam called, the boy waving his hand in the air to get his family's attention.

"Yeah, Sammy. What's your point?" Dean asked.

Sam opened his mouth to speak before shutting it and smiling. He shook his head, gazing at his family and wondering how he could ever cope if he lost them. The life they led made it a very real possibility that he could lose any one of them at any time. Sam shook himself out of his depressing thoughts as the sounds of his family's light laughter reached his ears. He smiled and leaned back against his pillows once again. He was getting out of the hospital today. No more poking and prodding. No more midnight vital checks. Sam couldn't wait to rest in a regular bed and eat regular food. He wasn't naïve enough to think that all would end happily ever after. He knew he had many sleepless nights to look forward to, but he knew his family would be there for him. They would be there to help him through this nightmare just like they'd been there before. Sam just hoped that they wouldn't pay for their love.

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**So, that's it for now. A bit of Winchester fluff for you all. Hope you liked it.**

**Cindy**


	30. Chapter 30

**Hey everyone! Here is the next chapter. I've found out that this story, along with With One Kiss, I Told You So and my new one that I will start posting here as soon as this story is complete are finalists in the awards for favorite fanfics in the threads that I post them in on the other site I am a member of. I've also been nominated for Most Creative Writer. I'm really in total shock, as the other writers I'm a finalist with are all incredible. I really can't believe I have four stories nominated, plus the other nod. Wow...Anyway, sorry about that. I guess I'm a tad excited. Onto the story!**

**Cindy.**

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_Sam walks through a dark apartment, stopping in the kitchen to grab a warm chocolate chip cookie and read with a smile the note that says 'I love you,'. He enters the bedroom, turning his head toward the door to the bathroom where he can hear the shower running. He collapses onto the end of the bed, his body falling back until he is flat on the mattress, his hazel eyes shut, a look of sheer contentment on his face. Suddenly, a drip of something warm hits his forehead and Sam flinches, but doesn't open his eyes. Another drip, then another and Sam finally opens his eyes. He sucks in a deep, gasping breath at the sight that greets him. There, on the ceiling above the bed is a faceless, blonde woman, her stomach dripping blood, white nightgown saturated with the crimson fluid._

_Sam can't move…he can't speak, the young man in total shock at the scene above him. "Mom?" he whispers brokenly, but then realizes that this isn't his mother. Even though he can't see the woman's face, he knows it isn't Mary Winchester. He's seen pictures of her and the hair is all wrong. It's too long and curly. This woman looks younger also. But what seals it for Sam is the overwhelming feeling of love, intimate love, that he feels for this faceless woman. It isn't the feeling of love one would have for ones mother, but the love one would have for his lover. A soft, confused voice carries to Sam's ears and he's sure he's heard that voice before._

"_Why, Sam?" the voice asks, the pain Sam hears a tangible force._

"_Who are you?" Sam asks as he tries to rise from the bed, but something holds him there, keeps his eyes glued to the suffering woman on the ceiling._

"_You should know, Sam. It's your fault I'm dying," the soft voice replies before the entire ceiling erupts into flames._

"_Noooooooooo!!!" Sam screams just as the door to the room bursts open and Dean rushes in._

"_Sammy!" Dean screams as he rushes to the bed and grabs his baby brother. _

_Dean pulls Sam from the bed and drags him across the room, but Sam fights him. The younger brother can't leave the woman on the ceiling to burn to death. Not when she's there because of him. She said so herself. Sam fights and begins to break free from his brother's grip, but then Danny is there too and between the two older brothers, they drag Sam out of the bedroom and then out of the apartment right before the whole place goes up in flames. They guide Sam to the street and help him into the Impala and they try to get his attention, but the boy can't drag his eyes away from the black smoke that pours from the windows on the second floor of the building. He gasps suddenly when he's sure he sees the dark outline of a man standing in the window, glowing yellow eyes staring out at him. He cringes against the seat when he hears a sinister voice. He's pretty sure he's the only one who can hear it because Dean and Danny are still trying to get his attention and don't respond when the voice speaks to him._

"_You're mine, Sammy boy. Not your momma's and not hers. No one will stand in my way when it's time to take you home."_

_Sam begins to scream and he can't stop and his brothers are going crazy trying to get through to him, but Sam keeps screaming because it's just too damn much. His mother dying on his six month birthday, the Wilcox men, Alisa, Randy Gregory and now this. He can't take it anymore and he just screams and screams and screams………….._

"Noooooooooooo!!!"

The screams awaken the whole household, but Danny was the first to reach Sam. He grabbed hold of Sam's shoulders and gently shook the boy. "Sammy! Wake up, kiddo. It's just a dream…it's just a dream," Daniel pled, the eldest Winchester sibling jerking his head to the open doorway when John, followed by Dean rushed into the room. Bobby appeared in the doorway, but stayed back, allowing the Winchester men to take care of their youngest. Caleb and Joshua aren't there to witness the scene as a hunt has taken them two states away. Dean was on the other side of the bed in an instant, his hand rubbing circles on Sam's back as the young man leaned forward, fighting to break free from Daniel's grip.

"Hey…Sam…hey…it's okay," Dean soothed, praying for Sam to open his eyes so the latest nightmare can end.

John was standing beside Daniel, his concerned eyes following the tears that trailed down Sam's flushed cheeks. He reached out and felt Sam's forehead, frowning at the heat that radiated from his boy. He hoped that Sam wasn't getting sick and that the fever was from the nightmare. Sam can't afford to get sick now, not after everything he's been through. Any illness could land him right back in the hospital and John isn't sure he can take seeing Sam lying in another hospital bed so soon after the last time. John turned to the doorway and saw Bobby standing there, the grizzled older hunter's eyes filled with concern.

"Bobby, can you get me some cold water? Sam's a little warm," John asked his friend and Bobby didn't hesitate to hurry across the hall to the bathroom.

John looked back at his sons and watched as Daniel pulled Sam into his arms, the eldest brother speaking urgently into the youngest's ear.

"Sammy…please, wake up. We're here…you're safe. We're all safe."

Sam's eyes popped open and he pulled back and stared at his brother. He looked confused for a moment then he sighed and relaxed back into his brother's embrace. Sam began to sob, the sound of his misery breaking his family's hearts. Daniel held tight to his brother while Dean continued to stroke his back, both brothers trying everything they could think of to console their inconsolable brother.

"Sam, was it the werewolf again?" Dean asked, his worried eyes moving up to glance at his father before returning to his brothers.

Sam shook his head against Daniel's shoulder, his sobs subsiding and turning into small hiccups. After a moment, he pulled back and rubbed the back of his hand over his wet cheeks. He glanced at each family member before dropping his gaze to his lap. He didn't look up when Bobby entered the room, a small glass held in his large hand. Bobby handed the glass to John who nodded in thanks. John knelt beside the bed, his hand reaching out, fingers tenderly gripping Sam's chin and easing his head up until he could see the hazel eyes beneath the chocolate fringe of Sam's hair.

"Hey. Drink this, kiddo. You feel warm, but I think it may be from the nightmare. This will help," John said as he raised the glass to Sam's lips.

Sam took the glass in his trembling hand and began to gulp the water down, wetting his chin and chest in the process.

"Slow down, Sammy. Small sips," John instructed, smiling when Sam complied.

Once the glass was empty, John took it from his boy and set it on the nightstand. He gazed up into still confused eyes and smiled warmly. Sam seemed to relax some at the gesture and the young man leaned back against the headboard of his bed, sighing tiredly.

"It's almost time for dinner, Sam. Do you think you may want to go outside onto the porch for awhile. Maybe get some fresh air?" Dean asked from the other side of the bed.

Sam turned his gaze to the young man. His fingers fiddled with the blanket as he nervously slouched in the bed. "Uh…'m not sure," he said softly, his voice trembling.

"It'll be okay, Sammy. We'll be there with you. This whole property is protected. Nothing can get to you," Daniel said, smiling when Sam's eyes turned to him.

"Not even the yellow eyed man?" Sam asked, his family gasping at the mention of the thing they knew was responsible for tearing their family apart.

"The yellow eyed man? Why are you bringing him up after all this time?" John asked fearfully.

Sam swallowed nervously as he looked down at his hands that lay in his lap. "The nightmare. He was there. He said I was his and that…uh…" Sam murmured, his voice trailing off.

"What, Sam? What else did he say?" Dean asked.

"I-I don't remember. I just can see bits and pieces now," Sam answered softly.

"What else can you remember? Anything?" John queried as he reached out and took one of Sam's hands into his own.

"There was…cookies…uh…water running. I think there was fire," Sam said, his confused gaze moving to his father's face.

John flinched when Sam said he'd dreamt of fire. He hated this. Hated what Sam was going through. He thought he'd be relieved when Sam stopped dreaming of werewolves tearing his family apart, but not if it meant Sam would start dreaming of the yellow eyed man and fire. That hit way to close to the heart of why they lived the life they did. John thought about Sam's words. About what Sam had said the yellow eyed man had said in his dream. He'd said that Sam belonged to him. John knew it was a dream and that it could just be the stress of the entire situation, but he didn't really believe that. Sam was connected to Mary's killer somehow and now that the latest drama seemed to be almost over, all of that old stuff was coming back. John shook his head of the thoughts and turned his attention back on his baby.

"Why don't we just forget about the dream, huh? It's probably just the stress and everything. I think it would be good for you to get some fresh air. I'll help Bobby with dinner and you and your brother's can go out and sit on the porch. You'll be fine, Sam," John said when he saw that Sam was about to protest.

Sam stared at his father then nodded. Fresh air did sound kind of good. He'd been holed up in Bobby's house for days now and the boredom was starting to take hold. Large hands reached for him and he looked up into his oldest brothers face. He took Daniel's hands and allowed the older man to help him from the bed. His legs felt wobbly from disuse and he welcomed the steadying grip his brother had on him. Bobby smiled and led the way out of the bedroom, followed by Daniel and Sam, then Dean and John. The men made their way carefully down the stairs, all of the older ones attuned to the youngest. It was slow going, but they made it down to the first floor. Bobby headed toward the kitchen while the others went the opposite way. Dean opened the front door and held it for his brothers and father then followed them all out onto the porch.

John helped Daniel settle Sam on a wooden chair then stood and addressed the eldest brother. "Keep an eye on him," he said, knowing it was unnecessary, but saying it nonetheless.

"You know we will, Dad," Daniel said with a grin.

John nodded before turning and heading back into the house to help Bobby prepare dinner. Daniel settled in the chair next to Sam, both brothers watching as Dean eased up onto the porch railing. The three brother sat for several moments in silence, just enjoying the early Summer air. Soon it would be downright hot and it wouldn't be so comfortable to sit out here anymore. Sam closed his eyes and rested his head back against the seat back, relishing the soft breeze that whispered over his face. His family was right, the fresh air did wonders for his depressed mood, erasing the last traces of the nightmare from his mind.

"So, maybe in a few days we can go into town, have a bite to eat, drink a beer or two. How's that sound, kiddo?" Dean queried, the middle brother needing to break the silence, never one to enjoy solitude.

Sam opened his eyes and gazed at his brother. He smiled warmly and nodded. It scared him to think about leaving the sanctuary of Bobby's property, but he knew his depression was weighing heavily on his family. They blamed themselves for what had happened to him when they really had no control over the situation. He was just beginning to accept that none of them could have stopped Randy Gregory's plans. Not him, nor his family. His father and brothers, Bobby too, were slowly convincing him that he wasn't weak to have been taken down by the crazy man. There was no way he could have known what was going to happen. No way he could have stopped it.

"Yeah. That would be nice, Dean," Sam finally said in response to his brother's suggestion.

Dean face lit up with a huge grin, the middle brother casting a quick glance at his older brother to see a similar smile on his face. Maybe, just maybe, their Sammy was coming back to them. He was still weak and pale, still having the nightmares, although not as bad, but he was smiling more and able to come down from the dreams more easily. This last one had been different. It had been terrifying to them because they had such a hard time waking Sam up. It was like the nightmare he'd had in the hospital when he'd immediately gone into a panic attack upon waking, but they had been able to keep Sam from going into another panic attack, which was a good thing. It meant Sam was slowly recovering and that soon he would be back to his normal, geeky self. Or, as close to normal as he could get considering everything he'd been through. Dean and Daniel weren't naïve enough to think that Sam would be exactly as he'd been before. Too much had happened for that to ever be a reality.

"Uh…just eats for you though, Sammy. You're not of age yet to be drinking," Daniel said with a grin.

"Sh*t, Danny. What a frickin' party pooper. I think Sam deserves a beer," Dean cried incredulously.

"Maybe so, but Dad would go ballistic on our asses if we fed our baby brother alcohol, Dean," Daniel said, winking at Sam when the younger man smiled at him.

"He wouldn't have to know, Danny. I swear, sometimes you're worse than the old man!"

"Uh…this is Dad we're talking about. He'd know and it would not be pretty."

"Well, that just sucks! He's nineteen for sh*ts sake!" Dean cried.

Just as Daniel was about to reply, the screen door opened and John stuck his head out. "Dinner's ready. Come in and eat up before it gets cold," he said before turning to Dean. "Oh, and no beer, Dean."

John chuckled at his son's bewildered look then he turned and went back toward the kitchen. Dean turned wide eyes onto his brothers, frowning as both broke out into laughter. "How the hell does he do that?" Dean spat, not amused at all by his brother's laughter.

"He's Dad. He just knows," Sam answered, stifling another giggle as it tried to break free from his throat.

Dean glared down at his baby brother, but he couldn't hold the look for long. The sound of Sam's laughter was like music and soon he was laughing right along with his brothers. The three soon headed into the house, Sam flanked on either side by his brothers. It had been a good day, despite the nightmare. Dean gazed sideways at his baby brother and prayed that there would be way more good days than bad from here on out.

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**So, Sam's nightmare a bit different this time. Way different actually, considering he hasn't even begun to date Jessica yet. Poor kid. At least he can't remember the dream now. Please let me know what you think. More to come, but this one is finally winding down. I mean it this time. Really!**

**Cindy**


	31. Chapter 31

**So, I am sorry for the delay on this chapter. My brother was scheduled for his heart surgery yesterday, nearly two years after his heart attack, but in his pre-op exam, the doctor said his blood pressure was too high as well as some other problems, so they weren't able to do the surgery. He and my mom came home today and I was finally able to get my mind back onto my story. I hope it doesn't seem rushed, but I wanted to get it out. I hope you like it.**

**Cindy.**

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The five men sat around Bobby's kitchen table, the only noise being the sound of a well made meal being consumed. Sam even ate more than just a bite or two, much to the relief of his perpetually worried family. The young man set his fork down on the table and reached for his glass of lemonade. As he pulled his arm back, his elbow brushed the fork, knocking it to the floor with a loud clatter. Sam set his glass back as he started to get up, but pulled back when Dean beat him to it and came around him to pick the fork up from the floor. Dean tossed the fork in the sink then retrieved another from the drawer before setting it on the table next to Sam's plate. Sam rolled his eyes as he gazed up at his brother.

"Dean, I was getting that," Sam said with annoyance.

"Didn't want you getting dizzy when you leaned over, little brother. Its no big deal," Dean answered as he took his seat.

"It is to me," Sam mumbled, the boy picking up the fork and idly pushing his remaining food around on his plate.

Dean glanced over at him and nudged the suddenly dejected young man's arm. "What did you say, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head then dropped his fork onto his plate. Dean's eyes widened with confusion as he glanced around the table, the other men shaking their heads before all eyes settled on Sam.

"Sam? What's wrong? Hey…talk to me," Dean said as he grasped Sam's arm.

Sam glanced over at his brother and sighed. "I…its nothing. Don't worry about it," he said softly.

"Uh-uh, no way, kiddo. Something's wrong. Now tell us," Dean said.

Sam leaned back in his chair, his eyes dropping to his lap. "Look, I know you're just trying to help me and I appreciate it, I really do, but…"

"But what, Sammy?" Daniel queried worriedly.

"I just feel like you all think I'm helpless or something. Like I can't do anything for myself without you thinking I'm gonna hurt myself," Sam murmured.

John reached across the table and grasped Sam's forearm. "Hey, you haven't been out of the hospital for all that long. We're just being careful with you while you get your strength back," the eldest Winchester said, smiling when Sam looked up and met his gaze.

"I know, but I can do some stuff for myself. I need to do some stuff for myself."

"Like what, Sammy? Because, we have to make sure you don't injure yourself again," Dean said.

"Uh…like taking a shower without having someone standing right beside the tub?"

"You could slip. You're not so steady on your feet yet, Sam," Daniel said.

"Okay, fine. What about letting me get up to get my own glass of water once in a while? Or, I could maybe go to the bathroom without an audience right outside the door?"

"I'll give you the water, but the bathroom floor is hard, slippery tile and with your dizzy spells, it makes me nervous you being in there without someone close," John answered, understanding his baby boys frustration, but more concerned with his safety than anything else.

Sam huffed lightly as he crossed his arms over his torso. "I feel like I'm two years old or something," he mumbled.

John stood and walked around the table then kneeled down next to Sam's chair. He waited until his youngest son was looking at him and he was sure he had his attention before he spoke. "Look, Sam. I understand…I really do. I know what its like to be injured and unable to do for yourself. You know what I'm like. But, you have to let us take care of your for a while longer. Just until you're a bit more steady on your feet and the dizzy spells pass. We're not trying to squash your independence here, kiddo. We're just trying to help you get better so we can all get back to normal," the man said, his heart breaking for his baby.

Sam dropped his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. He glanced back at his father and nodded his head. "Okay, but please…just let me do some things for myself. I'm not some helpless invalid. I can get my own glass of water. I can even make myself a sandwich if I get hungry. I'm just asking for a little bit of freedom, that's all," the young man said softly, eyeing his father expectantly.

John watched Sam for a moment, sudden pride welling in him. With all that Sam had been through, the kid could very easily hide away and never want to come out again, but here he was, begging for his independence. It scared the heck out of the man, but it also let him know just how far Sam had come from the scared young man he had been in the hospital and then when they first arrived at Bobby's. He hadn't wanted to be alone for even a second, couldn't sleep without someone in the room with him. Now, he could go up for a nap and sleep alone in the bedroom and had even asked for time by himself on occasion. It was progress. It was scary too. John wanted Sam to gain his independence again, wanted him to be the same kid who fought so hard to be free, but he knew that soon Sam would probably want to go back to school and the thought of his baby being away from them after everything that had transpired the past weeks terrified the man to his very core.

John pushed the feelings back into the back of his mind as he gazed at his son. "Okay, Sammy. We'll let you do some things for yourself as long as it doesn't involve stairs or tile floors, or fire, or heat, or…"

Sam chuckled as his father rambled. He reached out and rested his hand on John's shoulder. "I promise, Dad. I won't go anyplace where I can slip and crack my head open, or fall down the stairs, or burn myself up," Sam said, his gaze moving from John to the others and back again.

John nodded as he stood then moved back around the table and sat down on his chair. He watched as Sam picked his fork up again and began to eat. He smiled softly, but felt a knot form in his stomach. He knew it wasn't long before the fall semester would be starting at Stanford and he was sure that Sam would want to go back. He had to let the boy go, but he didn't have to like it. Sam's soft voice broke John out of his musings and he focused on the boy as he spoke.

"Where's Frank?" Sam asked, his eyes moving over the men at the table.

"Oh, he said something about looking up an old friend who lives in the next town over. He should be back tomorrow," Bobby answered, the older man standing and taking his plate to the sink.

Sam nodded then rose himself and began to lift his own plate. Dean quickly stood and reached for the plate, but he pulled his hand away as he looked at Sam's face. He smiled softly and stepped back. He lifted his own plate and took it to the sink, allowing his little brother to carry his own plate across the room. Sam smiled appreciatively as he took his plate to the sink. Once the table was cleared, Bobby, John and Sam moved to the livingroom while Dean and Daniel cleaned the dishes. Once the young men were done, they joined the others in the room. It wasn't long before Sam's eyes began to droop. The young man let out a particularly large yawn then looked around the room with a blush to his cheeks.

"Uh, I think I'll head up to bed. I'm feeling pretty tired," Sam said as he stood from couch.

Dean and Daniel both rose along with him and Sam sent a quick frown their way before remembering his deal with John. He allowed his brothers to follow him up the stairs and into the bedroom. He grabbed his pajamas and headed for the bathroom. He sighed lightly when Dean made to follow him, but didn't say a word. He entered the bathroom, reached into the tub and turned the shower on. He glanced at Dean and cocked his eyebrow. Dean smiled then turned his back, listening as Sam disrobed and climbed into the shower. Dean turned and moved to the tub, waiting for Sam to finish his shower. Within five minutes, the water was shut off. Dean grabbed a towel off the towel rack and handed it in to Sam. Sam emerged from the shower a few minutes later, the towel wrapped around his narrow hips. Dean reached out as Sam stumbled slightly, the older brother grasping Sam's arm and helping him to sit on the toilet lid.

"Thanks, Dean. Guess Dad was right," Sam said softly, the young man gazing up through dripping bangs.

"No problem, kiddo. You're just tired, so don't be so hard on yourself," Dean replied.

Sam sat for a moment then stood and pulled his sleep tee shirt over his head. Dean turned his back again and allowed Sam to finish dressing in his sleep pants. Sam hurried to brush his teeth then headed back to the bedroom he shared with Dean, his older brother following close behind. Daniel was just finishing up with checking the salt lines around the windows when his brothers reentered the room. He smiled as Sam came to his bed and dropped down on the edge.

"Hey, Sammy. How you doing?" Daniel asked.

Sam looked up at his brother, his eyes reflecting how tired he was feeling. "I'm fine, Danny. Just tired," he answered quietly.

"You've had a long day," Daniel said with a nod. He moved to sit next to Sam, nudging the younger man with his shoulder. "Hey, you'll be back to normal before you know it, Sammy. Don't try to push it too hard, okay? You may just set your recovery back," the eldest sibling said.

Sam nodded and turned his head to look at his brother. "You're right, Danny. I just feel so useless, you know?"

"I know, kiddo, but you should never feel useless. We've all been where you are at one point or another. We know how hard it is," Daniel comforted.

"Yeah, but it seems like all you guys ever do anymore is take care of me. It's like I'm destined to be a victim and I'm so damned tired of it all. I'm sure you are too and I'm just so sorry you have to always be taking care of your weak little brother," Sam muttered softly.

"Stop it, Sammy. You are so far from weak so stop cutting yourself down," Dean shot, a flash of anger in his voice.

Sam looked up sheepishly, seeing the anger in his brothers eyes. "I'm sorry, Dean, but it's just how I feel. You guys keep telling me how strong I am, but I don't feel strong. If I'm so damn strong, then why do these creeps keep coming after me? They sense weakness, that's why."

"The only weakness they could sense is that you are our weakness, Sammy. Randy Gregory did his research. He could see just how to hurt us the most and that was to go after you. It wasn't because you were weak," Dean said.

Sam dropped his gaze to his lap and stared at his entwined fingers. "I guess," he murmured.

"It's true, Sammy, so just stop," Dean said as he dropped to the edge of his own bed and faced his brothers.

"Sam, look what you've survived. Michael and Trenton Wilcox and now Randy Gregory? Do you really think someone weak could survive like you have? You took Trenton Wilcox out all by yourself and you were injured and ill. You came back from those attacks stronger than ever. You are amazing, Sammy. To all of us," Daniel said, the eldest brother draping his arm across Sam's shoulders and pulling him into his side.

Sam leaned into his brother and rested his head on Daniel's shoulder. "Thanks, Danny. I guess I'm just tired and feeling sorry for myself," he said softly.

"Well, then I guess you better get some sleep, little brother," Dean said as he reached across the space between the beds and squeezed Sam's knee.

"Yeah, I will," Sam answered.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Dean asked.

"No, I'm fine. You go down and relax, Dean."

Dean watched Sam for a moment then nodded. He wanted to stay with his baby brother, but he wanted to abide by Sam's wishes too. He rose, followed by Daniel and the two brothers left the room once Sam was settled beneath his blankets, the youngest of the three already snoring softly. Dean and Daniel quietly crept from the room and down the stairs, never seeing the restless tone Sam's sleep took as yet another nightmare began to assail his fragile mind.

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_He walked a silent path, his eyes gazing to each side of him, ever wary of the next threat. He wanted to call out for his brothers, for his father, but his voice seemed paralyzed. Instead, he continued on, wondering why he was on this path and where the path was taking him. He wanted to turn back, but his curiosity kept him moving forward. He came around a large tree and stopped dead in his tracks. Ahead, just a few yards up the path stood a man. The man was dressed in black and had his head down and his hands clasped together._

"_Sammy boy…at last we are alone. We have much to discuss, my son," the man said as he raised his head._

_Sam held in a gasp as the man looked up at him with glowing yellow eyes. He flared his nostrils at the man's audacity. "I am not your son!" he cried, his body shaking with anger and fear._

"_Ahhh, but you are, young Samuel. You are my son," the yellow eyed man said._

"_No! I am the son of John and Mary Winchester! I don't know who you are, but I do know who you are not!" Sam screamed, his hand clenching into fists at his sides, fingernails digging painfully into his palms._

"_Yes, this is true, but you were given to me long before your birth and on your six month birthday, I claimed what was rightfully mine," the man said calmly, his lips curling into a disgusting sneer._

"_You murdered my mother! You stole my brothers lives from them, took my father's wife. You stay away from me and my family or I will kill you!"_

_The man laughed a deep, hearty laugh. He moved toward Sam down the path and as badly as Sam wanted to turn and run, he held his ground, refusing to show his fear to this monster. He clenched his teeth when the man began to speak again._

"_Your mother got in the way and paid for that mistake. I told you, you belong to me and nobody is going to get in the way of my plans for you. You are mine, Sam. You were given to me and one day I will come to collect what is mine and you can kiss that so called family of yours behind," the man said sinisterly._

"_What do you mean I was given to you? Who gave me to you?" Sam queried, terrified of the answer he would receive._

"_That's for me to know, Sam. One day, you'll know the truth, but for now, its best that you don't know. I need you to stay under the nauseating watch of your father and brothers and if you knew the truth, you may leave and the way you get yourself into trouble, you'll be no use to me. As much as it pains me, I have to rely on your family to keep you safe until the time comes for you to fulfill your destiny."_

"_My destiny is with my family, not the monster who murdered my mother," Sam seethed, his face red with rage._

"_We'll see, Sammy boy. We'll see," the man said as he stepped up to within inches of Sam._

_The man reached out and before Sam could move, he placed his hand on Sam's head. Sam dropped to his knees, a scream ripping from his throat at the pain that slammed through his head and down into his body. Images that Sam couldn't keep up with flashed through his mind. His mother on the ceiling…flames…the faceless woman again…his brothers shredded, their eyes wide, lifeless and accusing. Finally, the images slowed and one lone figure stood engulfed in a white mist, his arm straight out in front of him, finger pointing directly at Sam. The figure lifted its head and Sam gasped at the hatred he saw in the dark eyes._

"_Dad?" Sam whispered fearfully._

"_No, I'm not your father. Not anymore. You took everything from me. My beautiful Mary, Daniel and Dean. All they ever showed you was love and you killed them," John hissed._

"_No, Dad…it wasn't me. I was only six months old when Mom died. I wasn't even there when you killed David Gregory. I didn't kill them…I couldn't…Dad, please," Sam begged, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks._

"_Don't call me that. He's your father now, not me," John said, his head turning to indicate the yellow eyed man as he stepped up next to him._

_Sam looked between the men, his heart hammering in his chest. "N-No. It's not true. Please…it's not true!"_

_Suddenly, John was gone and Sam was on the ground at the yellow eyed man's feet. The man gazed down at him and laughed that awful laugh again. "You see, Sammy? Even John knows who you truly belong to. He'll fight it for now, but eventually he'll give you up. He knows you're nothing but trouble and he'll save the sons who mean the world to him. You'll have no one, Sam. No one but me."_

"_I'll never go with you! Never!"_

"_You will, Sam. You will and the first thing I will make you do once you have embraced me is kill your pathetic family, uncles and all."_

_Sam glared up into the putrid yellow eyes, fury making his body tremble. "I will never embrace you and I will never hurt my family. I would rather die than hurt them!" he screamed furiously._

_The man merely laughed then reached down and placed his hand on Sam's head once more. Sam felt one last flash of pain before he felt no more, his body collapsing limply to the path beneath him._

Sam thrashed weakly in his bed, his head rolling restlessly on his pillow, hair plastered to his sweat covered brow. Soft, weak cries whispered over his lips as the nightmare played on. Incoherent words carried through the room, but they were too soft to carry to the men who chatted in the room at the base of the stairs. If the men knew of the current torment their youngest member was in, they would be up the stairs in a flash. But, they didn't know, so Sam suffered on until he was released from the nightmare, his exhausted body stilling, but his mind never fully escaping the scenes it had been privy to.

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**So? Was it okay? Are you ready for me to just finish it already? Well, I'm looking at maybe two more chapters. Not quite sure, but that's what I'm seeing right now. I just want to send a very heartfelt thank you for her kind words earlier this week. She's such a sweetheart! Thank you Ritu! Take care all--I love you!**

**Cindy**


	32. Chapter 32

**So, I'd planned to get this posted sooner, and I'd planned for it to be longer, but I got rear ended today with my husband and oldest son in the car and we spent over three hours in the ER. It cut into my chapter writing time a bit. We're fine, although my son and I are a bit sore. I hope the chapter is okay.**

**Cindy**

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Sam awoke sometime after midnight, confused and a bit disoriented until he heard the snore coming from the other bed in the room. He rolled his head on his pillow and squinted through the darkness, smiling warmly at the spiked hair that poked out from under a pile of blankets. Dean's arm dangled over the edge of his bed, his fingers trailing on the floor. Sam shook his head at the positions that his brother was capable of sleeping in. Sam swore Dean could sleep standing on his head if necessary. He recalled one time when he found Dean sleeping standing up when they were on a hunt. He'd woken his brother up and been sworn to secrecy with the threat of bodily harm if he told anyone. Sam could sleep in only two positions, on his side or on his back.

Sam rolled his head back to stare up at the ceiling before he closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. As soon as his eyelids closed, the images from his nightmare flashed through his mind and he popped his eyes back open, not ready to witness those images again. After several minutes, Sam decided that maybe a glass of warm milk would help him sleep dream free so he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He watched Dean closely, making sure his brother was still sound asleep before he stood and started to move slowly across the room. He knew if Dean woke up, the man would be out of bed and holding him up like he was a helpless ninety year old. He loved his brothers dearly, would die for them, but the mother hen routine was starting to wear him down. Sam remembered his promise to his family and nearly turned around, but the thought of lying in that bed for the rest of the night, wide awake drove him on and out the door.

Sam shuffled across the hall to the bathroom and stepped into the room. The cool tiles felt heavenly on his feet as he made his way to the toilet. Once he had relieved his bladder, he moved to the sink and washed his hands. He left the bathroom and headed down the hallway toward the staircase, his hand reaching out to steady himself on the wall as his body began to tire from the exertion he was putting it through. Sam made it to the staircase then sat down on the top step, unsure of whether he should continue down the suddenly very steep looking steps. He rested for a few minutes then stood and cautiously made his way down the steps. When Sam reached the bottom, he leaned against the wall and bent at the waist, his hands grasping his knees as he took in short, gasping breaths. Maybe his family was right. Maybe he did still need help getting around. Sam shook his head and straightened. He headed for the kitchen, his eyes widening a bit when he saw the soft glow of the kitchen light filtering through the closed sliding doors.

Sam swallowed, wondering who could be up at this hour. He considered going back upstairs, not ready to be reprimanded for getting out of bed and traversing the steps on his own. He turned to look over his shoulder and decided there was no way he was getting back up those steps on his own, so he sucked in a breath and headed for the kitchen. He slid one door open and stepped into the room, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee filling his senses. His father looked up from a stack of papers when Sam entered, his dark eyes widening right before the man sprang to his feet and rushed to Sam's side.

"Sammy? What are you doing out of bed? How the hell did you get down the steps by yourself?" John queried, a concerned timbre in his tone.

"Uh…very carefully?" Sam answered as John led him to a chair and eased him down.

"Huh. Well, I guess you forgot the deal you made with us then?" John said as he went to lean his hip against the formica countertop.

"I woke up…couldn't get back to sleep. I thought a glass of warm milk would help," Sam replied, his eyes focusing on a very interesting scratch in the table top.

"You should have gotten Dean to help you, kiddo," John said as he moved to the fridge and pulled out the jug of milk. "You still want this heated?"

Sam looked up and shook his head. "No, cold is fine," he said softly.

John pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with the white liquid then put the jug back in the fridge. He stepped to the table and put the glass down in front of his youngest son. "You hungry?" he asked.

"No. I'm fine. The milk is fine…unless you want to bake some chocolate chip cookies?" Sam replied with a sheepish smile.

"Me? Bake? Do you want me to burn Bobby's house down?" John asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I guess that wouldn't be very good, huh?"

"No. I think Bobby would be just a tad bit pissed," John said as he sat down on the chair across from his son, a slight smile curling his lips.

Sam took a long drink of the mild then set the half full glass back onto the table. He placed one hand over the other and twiddled his thumbs together nervously, his eyes transfixed once again on the scratched table top. John watched his son, the smile fading away as he saw how nervous Sam was.

"Sammy?" John asked, expecting the boy to look up and acknowledge him.

Finally, John got what he was looking for when Sam's sad, hazel eyes glanced up and settled on his face. "Yeah?" the boy replied, his voice barely over a whisper.

"Is there something wrong? Do you want to talk about it?"

"N-No. I'm fine, Dad," Sam replied. "I'm just tired."

John shook his head and stood from his chair. He moved around the table and took the chair next to his son. Sam glanced at his father as he sat and swallowed nervously. He dropped his eyes to his lap and collapsed back against his seat back. John cupped the back of Sam's neck and squeezed gently. "Sammy, look at me."

Sam looked up and John was taken aback by the pain he saw in his baby's eyes. "What happened? You need to talk to me, Sam. I know I've never really been the one for you to confide in, but I would hope that by now you could see that you can talk to me," John pled, his normally gruff voice soft and tender.

"I…I had a nightmare, but it…it wasn't like a regular nightmare," Sam whispered, his hazel eyes gazing intently at his father's face.

"You want to tell me about it?" John asked, his heart breaking at the sadness he witnessed in his son's eyes.

"Dad? You would never give me up, would you?" Sam asked, swallowing against the fear of what his father's answer would be.

"What? What kind of question is that?" John replied, hurt lacing his tone.

"If the yellow eyed man came for me and said that I was the reason Mom died…would you give me over to him?" Sam had tears trailing down his cheeks and John reached up to tenderly brush them away, his heart thudding in his chest furiously.

"Sammy…did you dream of the yellow eyed man? Did he say I would give you to him?" John asked, a sudden fury burning through him.

"I dreamed of him, but it was you who gave me to him. You said I killed Mom and Dean and Danny…"

John grabbed Sam and pulled him into a strong embrace, his fingers carding through his messy, slept on hair. "Oh Sammy, I would never give you over to that monster. I would never think that you were responsible for your mother's death. The only one to blame is the yellow eyed man," John comforted, pulling Sam closer as the young man began to cry harder.

After a few moments, Sam pulled away and stared up into his father's dark eyes. "Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you had saved Mom and not me?" he asked, the pain in his voice nearly bringing John to his knees.

John took Sam's face in his hands and made sure he had his baby's undivided attention. "I don't ever want you to say anything like that ever again, Sam. I could have never left you to die, even if it meant I could have saved your mother. She would never have forgiven me. Do you still not realize how much you're loved? Do you not know how destroyed we would all be if we ever lost you? Sammy…we'd never make it. I don't even want to think about what it would do to your brothers."

Sam gazed at his father, surprised to see tears fill the man's dark eyes and spill over to roll down his scruffy face. "'m sorry, Dad. I didn't mean…I…'m sorry," Sam said softly, dropping his eyes once more. "It's just…they yellow eyed man…"

"It was just a dream, Sam. It wasn't real."

"No…it was different. I don't think it was a dream. I think…uh…"

"What? What is it?"

"I think that the yellow eyed man is coming to me in my sleep now. I get the feeling he doesn't like it when he's interrupted," Sam said softly.

John looked at his son curiously. "Sammy? How many times have you…seen the yellow eyed man recently?" John asked, fear filling his heart.

"Uh…about four or five times now," Sam answered.

"Why didn't you say something sooner? Sammy, you don't have to be alone in this. I want you to tell us if something like this is happening to you," John said, his eyes intent as he stared at his son.

"You have so much to worry about already, Dad. You don't need anymore crap on your plate. What could you guys do about it anyway?"

"We could be there for you. We're your family, Sammy. You need to come to us with this stuff."

"I'm sorry, Dad. I just…I thought you'd…"

"You thought what?"

"I-I just feel so weak and…and I thought you'd think of me that way too."

"You are not weak, Sam. I would never think of you as weak."

Sam gave a small chuckle before answering. "I can't even make it from my bedroom to the kitchen without feeling like I'm gonna keel over, Dad."

"You've been through a lot, Sam. You nearly died, more than once in the past month. You aren't gonna be one hundred percent so soon after getting out of the hospital."

Just as Sam was about to reply, a disheveled Dean stumbled into the kitchen, a look of sheer panic in his wide, green eyes. His frantic gaze fell upon his brother and he nearly collapsed with relief.

"Sammy…what the hell?" Dean cried as he rushed to his brother and kneeled down next to him. "Are you okay? Is he okay?" Dean asked, his attention now on his father.

"He's fine, Dean. He had a nightmare and couldn't fall back to sleep," John explained with a small smile.

"Did you help him down here, Dad?"

"I came down on my own," Sam whispered, bracing himself for the storm to come.

"You what!?" Dean cried, his wide eyes moving between his brother and father.

"I didn't want to wake you, Dean. You were sleeping so good and I know you haven't been getting enough sleep, and…"

"And nothing, Sam. We had a deal!" Dean stood and paced to the counter. He took a coffee mug from the drain rack and poured himself a cup of steaming coffee before returning to the table.

"Dean…" John started, hoping to put out the flame before it became an inferno.

"No, Dad! He could have fallen down the stairs and broken his neck. I can't believe you did that, Sammy. You scared the holy living sh*t right out of me!" Dean ranted.

It was then that Daniel came into the kitchen, his hair sticking out in every direction. "What's going on? What's all the racket for?" he asked as he looked to each of his family members.

"Sammy decided it would be just fine if he came down the stairs all on his own, and apparently Dad thinks its okay too," Dean hissed.

Daniel turned surprised eyes on his youngest brother as he moved further into the room. "Sammy? Why did you do that? You could have gotten hurt," the eldest Winchester brother asked.

"'m sorry," Sam whispered as he lowered his eyes.

"Hey…hey…its okay, Sammy. We just don't want you to get hurt again," Daniel said as he moved to his brother's side.

Sam looked up and smiled softly. "Thanks, Danny," he whispered.

Dean grasped Sam's arm and squeezed gently. "Sam…I'm sorry for yelling, but you scared me half to death. When I woke up and you weren't in bed and I couldn't find you? I thought…I thought that somehow, you'd been taken again."

Sam gazed at his brother as more tears began to fall. Dean withered at seeing the tears, the young man never able to handle seeing is baby brother cry. He reached up and cupped the back of Sam's head and pulled his head toward him. "It's okay, Sammy. I'm not mad, I was just scared. Okay?"

Sam nodded as he leaned into his brother. "I'm sorry for scaring you, Dean," he whispered.

Dean smiled as he pulled away. "So, what woke you up?" he asked.

"Uh…I had a nightmare," Sam said in reply.

"Oh…I'm sorry I didn't wake up," Dean said softly.

"No, its okay. You need your sleep, Dean."

"What was your nightmare about, Sammy?" Daniel asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"It was…um…it was the yellow eyed man, but I…"

"What?"

"Sam has been dreaming of the yellow eyed man for sometime now, but he doesn't think its really dreams," John explained.

"What else would it be?" Dean asked, the young man suddenly very nervous.

"I think he's coming to me in dreams to avoid a confrontation with you all," Sam answered.

"Son of a bitch! What does he say to you?" Dean queried.

"Uh…he says I belong to him and that when the day comes, he'll come and take me. He says that I am the reason Mom died and that you all will be happy to give me up because of it," Sam whispered.

"Never! We'll never let him get to you, Sammy. He's wrong. You aren't responsible for Mom…he is!" Daniel cried as he moved to crouch next to his brother.

Sam smiled in appreciation as he stared at his eldest sibling. He was feeling better, but still couldn't shake the feeling that the yellow eyed man was at least partly telling the truth. He may not be to blame for his mother's death, but he was the reason she had died. The yellow eyed man had visited him that night and his mother had somehow gotten in the way. She'd paid the price for trying to protect him and Sam would never be able to fully distance himself from the part he'd played in her death.

"Sam? You okay?" Dean asked as he gazed down worriedly at his brother.

"I'm fine, Dean. I'm feeling a bit tired now though. Maybe I'll be able to fall back to sleep," Sam answered.

"Well then, let's get you back upstairs. And this time, if you need to get up for any reason? You call one of us to help," Dean said.

Sam nodded and didn't fight when Dean and Daniel grasped his arms and helped him stand. The brothers moved toward the doorway, the two elder siblings holding tight to their exhausted baby brother. John watched from his seat at the table as the three walked away from him. He turned his head and sighed heavily. Sam's description of his dream scared John tremendously. If the yellow eyed man truly was visiting Sam in his dreams, then how could he and his sons protect him? What did it mean that he was coming so often now? What would John do if Sam decided he would return to Stanford? Would he be able to let his baby go, knowing the threat that was out there, waiting to gets its hands on his son? He'd have to cross that bridge when the time came. _'Maybe he won't want to go back,' _John thought, dismissing the idea as soon as it came to him. Sam would want to go back. He may be scared, but he was also a Winchester. He wouldn't hide behind his family's coat tails. He wouldn't allow himself to shrink away, tail between his legs. He was the most stubborn person John knew. The most independent one of his sons.

John turned his eyes heavenward, a single tear trickling down his cheek. "Oh, Mary. What am I going to do? How can I protect him?" he whispered, the chirp of the crickets filtering in through the open kitchen window the only answer he received in return.

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**That's it for now. I'm thinking maybe one more chapter, but I could be wrong. Please let me know what you think.**

**Cindy**


	33. Chapter 33

**Well folks, here is the final chapter (before the epilogue)! I tried to post this yesterday, but I kept getting a processing error saying that they couldn't upload the chapter. Thank goodness it's working today! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Oh, and there is a tissue alert! **

**Cindy**

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**Three Weeks Later**

Sam sat on the top step of Bobby's porch, his hazel eyes peering out over the front yard, the young man deep in thought. How could he do this? How could he tell them? He had agonized for the past week over it and had finally come to a decision. A decision that he knew would hurt and terrify his family, but he really had no other choice. If he stayed with them, like every fiber of his being wanted to, then he would let Randy Gregory win. He would let Michael and Trenton Wilcox win. He couldn't…wouldn't let them turn him into a coward, hiding behind his family while they protected him, putting their own lives at risk. It was time for him to stand up and be a man and stop being a burden to his family. It was time for him to take back his life. He couldn't do that if he continued to stay within the relative safety of his family's protection. He knew what he had to do, he just didn't know how he was going to break it to his family.

Sam was pulled from his thoughts when a taxi pulled up the drive and stopped in front of the path to the porch. He straightened, his hand coming up to grasp the handrail as he pulled himself up from the step. He reached behind his back, making sure his weapon was there before relaxing a moment later when the occupant in the back seat of the taxi emerged and handed a stack of bills to the driver.

"Sam, how are you doing?" the man called, a large, warm smile on his face.

"Frank! It's good to see you!" Sam replied as he descended the steps and strolled up to the doctor.

"You too, kid. You look good. You feeling good?" Frank queried, eyeing the young man with a quirk of his head.

"I'm good. Getting stronger every day," Sam answered, the young man turning to look over his shoulder when he heard the screen door squeak open. He smiled when he saw his brothers emerge from the house, knowing that their big brother radar had gone off at the sound of the approaching vehicle.

"Frank!" Dean shouted as he descended the steps, Daniel on his heels.

"Hey, Dean…Danny, how are you boys?" Frank called, the older man digging his bag from the trunk of the taxi, Sam reaching in for a second bag which Daniel immediately took from him, the youngest Winchester rolling his hazel eyes at the lingering mother hen tendencies of his brothers.

"We're good, Frank. It's good to see you old man," Dean answered as he clapped the doctor on the back.

"Hey, watch who you're calling old! I'm not that much older than your daddy, boy," Frank chastised the young man, an amused grin on his lips.

Dean chuckled as he led the way into Bobby's house. John and Bobby were just coming from the kitchen when the four hunters came into the house. Bobby smiled as his eyes lit upon his friend and he quickened his pace across the livingroom. Bobby took Frank's outstretched hand and shook it vigorously.

"Frank…you made it. I have your room ready for you," Bobby said.

"Yeah, kicked me to the couch," Daniel groused goodnaturedly.

Sam smiled warmly and turned to his eldest brother. "You can have my bed, Danny. I can sleep on the couch," he offered.

"No way, Sammy. You're staying right where you belong, in the bed next to me," Dean shot before Daniel had a chance to reply.

"Dean's right, Sam. I'll be fine on the couch," Daniel said as he ruffled Sam's hair, much to the young man's dismay.

Sam ducked out of Daniel's reach, chuckling as his brother lunged for him, but missed by mere inches. "So, Frank, what are you doing here? Nobody told me you were coming," Sam asked as he moved behind his father to avoid his big brother's reach.

"Well, first of all, I came to check you over. Can't really have you going to a doctor here and trying to explain why you're there. Second, I missed you guys and took care of the things I needed to so I could come back for a while," Frank answered, his heart soaring at the bright smile that Sam sent his way.

"I'm fine, Frank. You don't really need to examine me," Sam said softly.

"Well, you look much better, Sam, but I think both your family and I would feel better if I did a quick once over, just to make sure," Frank said with a smile.

"Uh…okay, I guess," Sam replied, his eyes moving over his family.

"It's no big deal, Sam. Just making sure you're okay," John said as he glanced over at his youngest.

Sam rolled his eyes and smiled. The constant attention, eyes on him at all times was sometimes overwhelming, always annoying, but Sam didn't know what he'd do once he left and he didn't have it anymore. It was comforting to know that he could always depend on his family to watch his back. He would lose that soon and the thought made his mouth go dry and his palms sweat.

"Hey…Sammy? Are you okay?" Dean said as he moved to Sam's side, eyeing the boy with concern.

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine, just thinking about something," Sam replied.

"What?" Dean queried.

"It's nothing important. Just…it's nothing," Sam said softly.

Dean raised an eyebrow, but decided to let it slide. He was trying as hard as he could to give Sam his space and riding him about what he was thinking would not go over well in the long run. He'd concentrate on the more pertinent things like making sure Sam was eating and sleeping and not over doing it. He'd allow Sam to keep his thoughts private if that's what the kid wanted. As long as Sam was safe and relatively happy, Dean was happy.

"If you say so, Sammy. Right now, you need to eat," Dean said, grasping Sam's arm and leading him to the kitchen where Bobby had a pot of stew on the stove and biscuits in the oven.

The others laughed at Sam's five thousandth eye roll as they followed the two young men into the kitchen. Dean forced Sam to sit before he went to grab a stack of bowls from the cupboard. He filled a bowl with stew as Bobby pulled the biscuits from the oven and John pulled the butter dish from the fridge. Dean set the filled bowl in front of Sam then moved to the counter and buttered a biscuit. He put the biscuit down before Sam then moved to fill his own bowl. He sat next to Sam and began to eat.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said softly, his lips quirked up in a slight smile.

"Yeah…eat, Sammy," Dean replied eyeing his brother until Sam lifted a spoonful of stew to his mouth.

Daniel sat on the other side of Sam, his own bowl full. Soon, the table was surrounded by hunters happily enjoying their meal, each man keeping one eye secretly on the youngest member of their group. Sam had come a long way in the past weeks, but still was haunted by nightmares and periodic panic attacks. The silence was broken by Frank's questioning voice and all eyes turned to the doctor.

"So, where are Caleb and Joshua?"

"They were called to a hunt in Nebraska. They called in last night and think they should be able to tie it all up in the next few days. They're going to come back this way once they're done and from there…who knows," Daniel replied.

Frank nodded and returned his attention to his meal, the room going silent once more. Once the men finished their meal, they stood and began to clear the table, Sam moving toward the sink to begin washing the dirty dishes. John moved up beside his son and took the dishrag from him.

"Sam, why don't you go rest for awhile," John said as he nudged Sam away from the sink.

"Dad, I can do the dishes," Sam replied with a huff.

"You were up early this morning, kiddo. You're looking a bit tired and pale. I'd feel better if you take it easy for the rest of the afternoon," John explained.

Frank, hearing the exchange, rested a hand on Sam's arm to get the boy's attention. "Sam, this would give me a chance to examine you and then you can rest up. You're father is right, you do look pale and tired," the doctor said with concern.

Sam looked first at his father, then at Frank before sighing and walking from the kitchen. The one thing that kept running through his mind was how he was going to tell his family that he had decided to go back to school when he was deemed too fragile to serve up his own bowl of stew or to wash a few dishes. It was going to be even harder than he had imagined to tell his family of his plans, but he had to see it through. He knew it would be the final step that he would have to take to complete his healing. Convincing his family that it was necessary was the biggest obstacle facing the young man, but he was determined to make them see that it was the only way for him to overcome what had happened to him.

Sam headed for the couch, but stopped when Frank grasped is forearm. He gazed at the man curiously.

"Why don't you head up to your room so we can have some privacy. I just need to grab my bag and I'll be right up," Frank said as he eyed the boy.

"Yeah, okay," Sam said and headed for the stairs.

In an instant, Dean was there to follow Sam up. Sam turned to look over his shoulder and huffed. "Dean, I can make it up the stairs by myself. I'm not completely helpless," he said as he took the first step.

"I know you're not helpless, Sammy," Dean replied, his hand coming to rest on the small of Sam's back.

"Then why are you following me?" Sam queried.

"Uh…I need something from the room before you and the doc take it over," Dean lied.

"Yeah…right. I'm not stupid, just like I'm not helpless, or blind, or deaf. I see you guys watching me, I hear you whispering behind my back. You don't think I can take care of myself. You think I'm weak," Sam said as he stopped on the first step and turned on his brother.

"You know what, Sam? Yes, we worry about you, but we don't think you're stupid, or weak. I'm sorry we're cramping your style…I'm sorry us caring about you is such a pain!" Dean spat, the young man turning on his heel and stomping across the room and out the front door.

"Dean! Sh*t…" Sam cried as he watched his brother descend the porch steps and disappear around the house.

Sam looked over to find his father and Daniel watching him then he lowered his eyes, turned around and headed up the stairs. Frank glanced at the Winchesters before he too headed up the stairs. He followed Sam into the bedroom and shut the door behind them. He watched Sam collapse down onto the edge of his bed and drop his chin to his chest. Sam leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into this hands. Frank sat down beside him and just waited for Sam to calm down. Finally, Sam straightened and glanced over at the older man. Frank sighed at the look of sadness in Sam's hazel eyes.

"Sorry 'bout that, Frank. Sorry you had to see what a selfish son of a bitch I am," Sam whispered.

"Hey…you're not selfish, Sam. You just…"

"No, I am. They're just worried about me…just trying to help and I don't even appreciate it." Sam turned his head to gaze out the window and Frank was sure he could hear the sounds of soft crying.

Frank reached out and grasped Sam's knee, squeezing softly to get the boy's attention. When Sam turned back toward him, he smiled warmly. "Sam, they're afraid. They've watched you go through so much and its hard for them to watch you gain your independence. Its not that they don't want you to be able to take care of yourself, its that they know once you are perfectly capable of handling yourself, you won't need them anymore."

"I'll always need them, but…," Sam started, his wide eyes gazing at the doctor before he turned away. "I can't expect them to always be there to take care of me. I have to be able to take care of myself. I mean…the stuff we do? Anything can happen, you know that. I could lose them all in one hunt, Frank."

Frank nodded, fully understanding where the young man was coming from. Theirs was a dangerous life and Sam was right. He could lose his entire family in an instant. "You know, kid? I know what you're saying and I understand, but they're your family. They're going to worry and they're going to try and keep you safe. They can't stop doing that any more than they can stop the sun from rising. You all just have to learn to compromise. You're not selfish, Sam. Neither are they."

"I know. I just…I have something to tell them and it scares me. Their reaction isn't going to be good, Frank," Sam said softly.

"What is it, Sam? Maybe I can help," Frank said, his hand squeezing Sam's knee again.

Sam took a deep breath and dropped his eyes to his lap. "I-I…I've decided to go back to school. They aren't going to want me to go, but I have to. I have to, Frank," Sam cried.

Frank leaned back and ran his hand over his face. He understood Sam's dilemma. Knowing the Winchesters just for the short amount of time that he had, Frank knew that what Sam wanted was not going to go over well. His family was so over protective of the boy and considering the start of this latest drama started while he was away at school was only going to put that protectiveness into maximum overdrive. Frank felt for the kid. It was not going to be a pretty scene when he told them. Frank finally leaned forward and looked over at Sam's distraught face.

"It's going to be hard, Sam, but if it's what you think you need to do then you have to tell them. The sooner the better I'd have to say. Give them time to come to grips with the idea," Frank said.

"They aren't going to let me go. Dad'll go ballistic and I don't even want to think about what Dean and Danny will say. You saw Dean downstairs. Danny's a bit better about letting me do for myself, but not much. I'll tell them and they'll tell me no and then they'll hate me because I have to go. I'm going to go, whether I have their blessing or not. I just…I want them to understand why I have to do this and I don't think they will."

Sam stood and began to pace the floor. Frank watched him, concerned about him getting himself worked up. He wished he could make this easier on the kid, but he knew he couldn't. Sam was right. His family would probably react the exact way he had described. Not that Frank could blame them. He had become very attached to the kid and the thought of him going away to school frightened him a great deal. He couldn't even think about Sam being alone without his heart rate spiking and Sam wasn't even family. Frank stood and approached the agitated young man. He grasped Sam's arm and smiled when soft hazel eyes turned his way.

"Let's forget about that for awhile, okay? Why don't you lie down on the bed so I can examine you. It won't take long, just want to make sure you're coming along okay," Frank said as he led Sam to the bed.

Sam followed obediently and stretched out on his bed. Frank retrieved his bag and pulled out the various instruments he'd need to do a quick assessment. He listened to Sam's heart, took his blood pressure, checked his pupils and temperature. He assessed Sam's reflexes and then stood. He smiled down at the boy as Sam sat up. He returned his medical instruments back to his bag and zipped it up.

"So, am I going to live, Frank?" Sam asked as he gazed up at the older man.

"You are doing quite well, kiddo. The tiredness will diminish in time. I just want you to get as much sleep as possible and you really need to eat more. You're too thin, Sam," Frank said.

"You sound like Dean," Sam said with a chuckle.

"The guy knows what he's talking about," Frank replied.

"I just don't have much of an appetite. I eat as much as I can swallow down, but the thought of food just doesn't appeal to me."

"This is exactly the kind of thing that keeps your family worrying so much about you, kiddo. How can you expect them to watch you go out on your own when you don't even eat properly without someone there practically spoon feeding you?"

Sam slowly shook his head and smiled. "You're right, Frank. I'm not really making it easy on them am I?"

"It's never going to be easy for them, but you have to show them that you can take care of yourself and eating enough, without prompting, will definitely not hurt."

"Thanks, Frank," Sam said before a gigantic yawn took over his entire face.

"It looks like you could use a little nap, Sam. Why don't you lay down and I'll let your family know that you are going to be just fine," Frank suggested.

Sam smiled and did as he was told. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, his breathing evening out within minutes. Frank smiled fondly down at the boy then grabbed his bag and quietly left the room, shutting the door softly behind him. He made his way to the stairs and moved down to the ground floor of the house, nodding as he came into the livingroom and took in the watchful eyes of the Winchesters. Dean had returned to the house and was seated on the armchair while Daniel and John occupied the couch. Bobby emerged from the kitchen and glanced at his old friend.

"So, how is he, doc? Everything where it should be?" Dean asked.

"He's doing very well. I told him he needs to eat more, but he seems to be gaining strength. His heart sounds good, his reflexes are right where they should be. He's sleeping right now. I don't think it'll take long for him to be at one hundred percent," Frank answered.

"Thanks, Frank. We really appreciate you coming and looking him over," John said as he stood and approached the doctor.

"It's really my pleasure, John. I'm very fond of the boy," Frank answered.

Dean stood and headed for the stairs. Nobody said a word as he ascended the stairs, all of the hunters knowing that he needed to be near his brother. Dean walked down the hall and quietly opened the door to he and Sam's room. He stepped in and made his way silently to his bed. He sat down and turned his gaze onto his little brother. Sam's face looked peaceful as he slept and Dean smiled as he watched him. He knew he should loosen the reins a bit, but it was hard. Sam had nearly died, twice and he just couldn't shake the terror he had felt when he had nearly lost him. Letting Sam out of his sight was hard enough, but his fear of what could happen when Sam was out of his sight was agonizing. Dean leaned forward and brushed some stray strands of hair from Sam's eyes, smiling when the boy leaned into the touch. He pulled back slightly when Sam's eyes fluttered open and gazed up at him.

"Hey, kiddo. Sorry for waking you up," Dean whispered.

"It's okay," Sam replied softly as he turned onto his back. "Dean? I'm sorry for…"

"No, don't Sam. You don't need to apologize. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I just don't want anything else to happen to you," Dean interrupted.

"I know you guys are worried about me. I understand, Dean, I really do. It's just…I feel like you all think I'm this fragile piece of china or something. Like I'm going to break or something," Sam whispered.

"Sammy…"

"I'm not going to break, Dean," Sam said softly before his eyes slid shut and he fell back into a peaceful slumber.

Dean brushed a wayward tear from his cheek then sat back on his bed. He lay down and turned onto his side. Dean watched the gentle rise of Sam's chest and the comforting motion slowly lulled him to sleep. A half an hour later Daniel looked in on his brothers, smiling warmly as he slowly backed out of the room and closed the door silently behind him.

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Sam awoke and gazed up at the window, noting the dying light and guessed he must have been asleep for at least five hours. He looked over at the other bed and upon seeing it empty, he slowly rose and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He stood and shuffled across the floor then pulled the door open. He stepped into the hallway and crossed over to the bathroom, did his business then made his way to the stairs. He gazed down, fully expecting either Dean or Daniel to pop their head around the corner, but when nobody emerged, he carefully made his way down to the livingroom. He heard voices in the kitchen and turned in that direction. He took a deep breath before walking through the entryway, smiling softly at the men seated around the table, a meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes spread out in front of them.

"Sammy…you're awake. Come and eat," John said as his gaze met Sam's.

Sam sat in the chair between John and Daniel and took the empty plate that sat before him. Remembering the talk he had with Frank, he scoop a generous portion of potatoes onto his plate then drizzled a ladle full of gravy over the white mound. Next, he took two drumsticks and a breast and began to eat, feeling the eyes of the other hunters on him. He looked up and arched his eyebrows.

"What?" he asked through a mouthful of potatoes.

"Uh…nothing," Dean murmured.

Sam chuckled lightly then took a bite of a drumstick. The others continued to watch him for a moment before they too continued with their meal. Dinner continued in silence and once the dishes were cleared and cleaned, Sam helping to dry and put the plates away, the hunters moved out of the kitchen, Bobby heading into his library while Frank decided to turn in for the night. It'd been a long day of traveling for him, plus he could tell that Sam wanted to speak with his family alone. They boy had kept shooting glances his way and Frank had picked up on what those looks meant. He smiled knowingly at the boy before ascending the stairs, leaving the Winchesters to themselves. The four men made their way to the front porch, the call of a cool night breeze too tempting to pass up. Once they were settled, they stared out into the star encrusted sky and just took in the peaceful sounds of the summer night.

Sam glanced from one man to the next and swallowed nervously. He'd made the decision at dinner that it was now or never. If he didn't get this over with, he may never be able to tell his family of his plans and then he would never be able to leave. Sam stood and cleared his throat, garnering his family's undivided attention.

"What is it, Sam?" John queried, noticing the nervous look in his son's eyes. John sighed softly, knowing what was coming, but holding his tongue, worried about what his older son's reactions would be.

"Uh…I need to talk to you all about something. Something important," Sam said softly.

Dean watched his brother, a sudden chill carrying down his spine. "What, Sam? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Look, I know you're going to be pissed and I'm sorry, but I…I…"

"But what? Sam, it's okay. Just tell us," Daniel coaxed.

Sam took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He looked from one family member to the other, suddenly very afraid to speak. "I…I've decided that I'm…I'm going back to school," he said, his eyes dropping to the porch floor as he readied himself for what was to come.

"What! No way! No way in hell, Sammy!" Dean yelled, the young man on his feet in an instant. "You can't go, it's not safe!"

"Dean…I have to go. I can't…"

"You can't what, Sam? Can't stand to be around your overbearing family anymore?" Dean cried, anger and fear darkening his green eyes.

"Dean…stop," Daniel said before turning to his baby brother. "Sam…why do want to go back? We can't protect you if you aren't with us," he asked as he walked up to Sam and grasped his arms gently.

"That's why, Danny. I need to learn to stand on my own two feet again. I can't keep relying on you guys to constantly be taking care of me. I'm not a kid anymore and it's time for me to act like it," Sam answered softly, the boy turning pleading eyes upon his middle brother.

Dean gazed at Sam then scrubbed a shaky hand over his face. "You have nothing to prove to us, Sam. You've already proven how strong you are. I promise…I'll let you have some space. I'll even let you go on one of your walks you love so much and I won't follow you. Sammy, please…"

"That's not it, Dean. I have to do this for me. I have to move past what happened and I can't do that…not completely, if I am always being shielded from every harm. I can't completely heal if I don't do this."

Dean stared at Sam, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't understand this. Why would Sam want to leave the safety of his family? Had he pushed him away with his hovering? Was Sam running away from him? Dean looked past Sam to the man who had remained silent throughout Sam's confession.

"Dad. Tell him he can't go. Tell him that he's only safe if he's with us. Tell him, Dad…tell him," Dean pleaded as his eyes moved from his brother to his father and back.

John sighed and moved around Sam. He turned until he was facing his youngest. His eyes searched Sam's face as his lips curled into a sad smile. "When do you have to go?" he asked softly.

Dean turned on his father, his green eyes wide with astonishment. "What!? You can't be serious!" he screamed.

"Dean, this is Sam's decision. It scares the hell out of me, but I understand why he has to go. We have to let him go, no matter how much it scares us," John said, his dark eyes now on his middle son.

Dean stared incredulously at his father, mouth wide open. Daniel rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Dean, Dad's right. If this is what Sammy needs to do, then we have to let him do it," the elder brother said softly.

Dean shook off his brother's hand and stomped to the steps. He swung around, his face red with fury. "Have you all lost your f***ing minds!? He was attacked there! That's where this whole nightmare began! He can't go back there! Not alone!"

Sam swallowed and stepped forward. "Dean…I have to go alone. I want to go back. I have friends there and I love the classes…"

"You have your family here! Who's more important? Us or your friends? Huh?"

Sam sucked in a startled breath, the hurt in his eyes killing Dean a little. "You know the answer to that, Dean. I love you guys more than anything. I'm not choosing to leave you guys," Sam said softly.

"Then what are you choosing, Sam? Because from where I'm standing, it sure seems like you're choosing to leave us."

Sam lowered his head, tears beginning to trail down his flushed cheeks. He looked up at his brother again and abruptly brushed the tears away. "I'm choosing to take my life back. I'm choosing to tell Michael and Trenton Wilcox to go to hell! I'm choosing to tell Randy Gregory that he doesn't get to decide my life for me! If I stay here, it'll be because I'm too scared to live my life. I am scared, Dean…I'm so scared. But, I have to do this. I have to take my life back. I have to be able to look at myself in the mirror and not see a coward. Please…I have to do this and I have to know that you are standing behind me. I need this, Dean."

Dean couldn't stop the tears that flowed freely from his eyes. He lunged forward and pulled Sam into his arms, wrapping the young man in a painfully tight embrace. Sam lowered his head to Dean's shoulder and just let the embrace strengthen him. Sam felt the others move up around them and then Dean's arms slacken enough so that he could pull slightly away. Dean let go completely and lifted his hands to cup Sam's face.

"You are so far from being a coward, Sammy. Don't ever cut yourself down like that. If you need this, I'll stand behind you. I may not like it, but I'll do it. For you," he said softly as he pulled his and Sam's foreheads together.

Sam let out a soft sob as he felt his family embrace him. He was terrified to leave them, the thought of being on his own nearly bringing him to his knees, but he knew he had to do it and he would be stronger for it. The four men stood in a tight circle on the porch for several minutes, none of them aware of the two men who watched from the doorway. Bobby nudged Frank and the two turned away, giving the Winchesters the privacy they deserved.

"Those idjits are gonna be the death of me," Bobby mumbled, the grizzled hunter smiling as his friend chuckled beside him. Bobby didn't know what would come of this latest development, but he did know one thing. He knew that no matter what, he'd always be there for his boys. For his family.

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**That's it guys! I'll have the epilogue up hopefully in the next few days, unless there's more problems with the site. Bring tissues as the Winchesters will be leaving Sam at Stanford. Thanks so much for reading.**

**Cindy**


	34. Chapter 34

**Well guys, we've come to the end of another story. I so appreciate all of you who have stuck with me on this story and this series. I am so happy that you have embraced Danny, even though he is the dreaded...eek...third sibling! I will have more stories with Danny, so don't fret too much. He won't be in the next one I start posting, but he'll be back, I promise. I'll probably wait a few days to start posting my next story. I am about ten chapters into it right now, so you won't be waiting so long for updates, at least until I catch up and then you'll have to wait for me to finish writing before I post the next chapter. So, I'll let you get onto the epilogue. Take care**

**Cindy**

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**EPILOGUE**

"Are you sure you want to do this, Sammy? It's not too late to change your mind you know," Dean said softly as he gazed around Sam's small dorm room.

Sam's roommate had left the Winchester men and now it was only the four of them in the small, plain room. Sam looked up at his brother and smiled. "I have to stay, Dean. I'll be fine," he answered just as softly as his brother.

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. He knew what Sam's answer would be, but he had to try anyway. The thought of leaving Sam behind, alone and unprotected went against everything that he and his family stood for. Never leave one of your own behind. It didn't sit well with Dean at all and he knew that Daniel felt the same way. Daniel had been almost too calm when Sam had told them of his plans and that's how Dean knew that his older brother was torn up inside, just as he was. Since that night almost a month ago, he'd caught Daniel watching Sam, unaware that he was being watched, and there had been several times that Dean could distinctively see tears in the eldest siblings eyes. Daniel was just as scared as he was and Dean suspected the same of John, even though the patriarch of their family barely showed it. There were subtle changes in the man's behavior that cued Dean into his true feelings. He was eating less, sleeping less and seemed to stay a little closer to Sam than normal. Nothing that was blaring, but Dean noticed nonetheless.

"Sam, we could find a place here in Palo Alto and set up a base camp here. That way, you could live in the dorms and not have us constantly underfoot, but we could still be near, just in case you need us," Daniel said hopefully, a slight tremor in his voice.

"Danny, that would just defeat the purpose wouldn't it? I need to do this on my own and if you guys are just a short drive away, I'm not really on my own now am I?" Sam replied, eyeing his brother sadly.

"You're right, but it's just…it's too hard to leave you here. It's harder then it was the first time we had to leave you, Sammy," Daniel whispered.

"Danny…"

"Look, I know I said that we had to support you on this, but it goes against everything we've stood for our whole lives…"

"Danny's right, Sam. We can't just leave you here. You have nothing to prove. Not to us," Dean said, happy to finally have someone else voice his fears.

"I have something to prove to myself," Sam replied, the boy sinking down onto the edge of the twin bed that held his two duffel bags, everything that he owned.

"You're brother is right, boys. You're just making this harder…on everyone," John admonished from where he stood near the only window in the room.

"I don't care. I can't just drive away and leave him here! I know I said I could, but I can't! I'm not that strong!" Dean cried, the young man turning his back to avoid the embarrassment of his family seeing the tears in his eyes.

Sam stood and moved behind his brother. He rested his hand on Dean's shoulder and eased the man around until they were facing each other. Dean could see tears in Sam's eyes and he swallowed against the emotions that seeing Sam cry always brought to the surface. He reached up and cupped Sam's neck, saddened that he had put the tears there.

"Dean, please…this isn't easy for me either, but it's something I have to do. I understand, I really do, but you have to let me go. It's not forever. I'll take all of the precautions. I have all of the wards Bobby put together for me and I'll be extra careful of anyone I don't know," Sam pleaded, his hazel eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears.

"Sammy, I just don't know if I can. I know Danny feels the same way too," Dean said quietly.

Sam looked to his eldest brother and saw the truth in Dean's words. He sighed heavily and moved back to the bed, sinking heavily onto the edge and dropping his head to stare at his knees. "So, I was right, huh?" he whispered sadly.

Dean and Daniel both moved to the bed simultaneously. Dean sat next to his brother while Daniel crouched before him. Daniel ducked down so he could see Sam's face, his heart breaking a little at the tears that slowly trailed down his cheeks.

"Right about what, Sammy?" Daniel queried softly.

Sam looked up and moved his gaze from one brother to the next before resting his eyes on Daniel. "You…you think I'm weak. You don't trust me. You think that I can't take care of myself," he answered.

"No, we don't think…" Daniel started.

"I understand, you know. I let all of those things happen to me. I was too weak to stop any of it. I can see where you guys would think that there's no way I could ever make it on my own."

The brothers looked to one another then up to their father as the man moved to stand behind Daniel. John didn't look happy at all. "Sammy," John's gruff voice said and the young man lifted his eyes to his father's face. "You didn't let anything happen…right boys?"

Both Dean and Daniel nodded before turning back to Sam. Dean draped an arm over Sam's shoulders and sighed as wet, hazel eyes turned onto him. "We don't think you're weak. Like Dad said, you didn't let any of those things happen to you. In fact, you played the biggest part in ending all of those monsters, Sam. It's not you who's weak…it's us. We can't let go. We're scared to death, not because we don't think you can take care of yourself though. Its just…there's so many evil things out there and because of what we do, they're a bit more tuned into us and with you on your own…it's just hard to leave you."

Daniel squeezed Sam's knee and smiled when his baby brother turned his gaze to him. "Sammy, anyone of us would be vulnerable if we were alone. We would be worried to have any of us be alone, but with you? For some reason, you seem to be more attractive to the big bads. You're the baby, whether you like it or not, and we're just more protective of you. We can't help it. It doesn't mean we think you're weak. It just means that we love you so much and we couldn't make it without you. We love you, Sammy," the eldest brother whispered softly.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and reached up to brush the tears from his cheeks. "I love you guys too…so much. I worried every day when I was away before, and I know I'll worry every day now, but I have to do this. I can't do anything else to try and make you understand. The only way to get the Wilcox's and Randy Gregory out of my dreams…out of my life, is to prove to myself that I can be on my own, nobody else to rely on but myself…"

"See, that's what goes against everything we've ever been taught, Sammy. You shouldn't have to rely only on yourself," Dean started.

"But that's just it! I may have to someday, Dean! I may not have a choice!" Sam cried, his tears renewed.

The three older men eyed the boy with confusion. John moved to sit on the other side of his youngest, the man reaching over to tenderly pull Sam's head around. "What do you mean, Sam?" he asked nervously.

Sam sighed and swallowed back the lump in his throat. "What am I going to do if one day I get that call, Dad? What we do…it's so dangerous. I'm terrified that one day, you guys aren't going to make it home. I have to be able to take care of myself. It's either that or I follow you…"

"Stop! Don't even think it, Sam! We will never leave you alone like that," Dean cried.

"You don't know that, Dean. Anything could happen. That's the reality of our lives," Sam replied, his body trembling.

"Hey…hey, calm down, kiddo. We get it, okay…we get it," Daniel soothed, his hand squeezing Sam's knee once more.

"Do you? Do you really get it, Danny? We've been lucky so far. I mean, as lucky as we could hope for. We're all alive, but you know how quickly that could change. I don't want to think about it, but I have to. You guys could go out on a hunt and never come back and I'll be left alone. I have some yellow eyed thing gunning for me. I have to know how to handle myself," Sam cried, his voice hitching.

"Sammy…" John started.

"I don't know. Maybe you're right. Maybe I can't take care of myself. Maybe it would be best if I just follow after you because I don't know if I could live with the pain anyway. I just…I…"

Dean grabbed his brother and swung him around, his green eyes staring intently into Sam's own hazel ones. "If I ever hear you talk about killing yourself again, I swear, Sammy…I'm going to have to go kung fu on your ass! No matter what happens in the future, you will live! If we die, which we won't, but if we do, you will continue on! You will carry on because you're strong, Sammy. Stronger than any of us! You're a Winchester, and Winchesters don't quit! We don't give up and we definitely don't take the easy way out!"

Sam stared back at his brother, his eyes widening at the outburst. Dean was breathing heavily and his eyes still held the anger they did before his tirade. Sam took a deep breath and began to speak. "Well, if you want me to be able to carry on, even if I lose you, then you're going to have to let me go now. You're going to have to let me prove to myself that I can do it because I can tell you this…I'm not going to be babysat my entire life. Not by Bobby, or Pastor Jim…Joshua or Caleb. I'm either going to take care of myself or I'm going to die."

Dean sat back and eyed his brother, shocked by Sam's words. He looked over at his father then to his brother. Daniel had his head down and his body was shaking slightly. Dean could tell there were tears on his face. He pulled his gaze away from his older brother and turned back to Sam. Sam still had his eyes locked on Dean, waiting for what the older hunter had to say.

"Uh…okay. You're right. I don't like you talking like that, but I guess it got our attention. Yes, you do need to know how to take care of yourself, just in case, but if you think you're going to be completely alone, think again. If…and that's a big if…if something happens to us, Bobby and the others will be there for you. Not to babysit you, but to back you up, just like they do now," Dean said, his gaze moving to his father to finish when his voice suddenly left him.

John cleared his throat and waited for Sam to turn to him before he began to speak. "So, here's the deal. We won't set up here. We'll leave you to go to school and you'll promise to keep all of the wards up. You'll let us know if yellow eyes contacts you again," John said, holding his hand up when it looked like Sam was about to protest. "We aren't messing around with this thing. I'm sure it's a demon and one hunter cannot deal with a demon, no matter who they are," he continued.

It was Daniel's turn next, the eldest sibling cupping the back of Sam's neck before speaking. "It'll be just like before. You call us every Thursday at eight, no exceptions."

Sam glanced at each man then nodded his agreement. It was actually more than he had expected so he was happy to accept. "Uh…so, maybe we should get going. The others are waiting at the diner," Sam said softly, a slight smile curling his lips.

"Yeah, they're gonna think some college coeds got ahold of us or something," Dean said with a chuckle.

The hunters shook their heads as they stood and headed for the door. They made their way downstairs and out to the Impala, Dean climbing in behind the wheel with John riding shotgun and Daniel and Sam in the back. They drove to the diner where Bobby, Frank, Caleb and Joshua waited for them. Once all of the men were seated together and their orders had been taken, they proceeded to talk about past hunts, future hunts and anything else other than the looming hour that they would have to drive away and leave Sam behind, on his own and completely unprotected. Their meals came and they ate and talked and sometimes they laughed, but each hunter felt the dread slowly fill them as the minutes ticked by, Sam included.

Finally, their meals were finished and the bill was paid. The men made their way outside and stood around on the sidewalk, none of them quite ready to leave. The sound of laughter suddenly filled the night and the men turned to look across the street, and Sam sucked in a quick breath. The hunters looked at Sam then turned to see where he was looking. All they saw was a group of students entering a coffee shop. Nothing scary or out of the ordinary. The men returned their gazes to Sam, only to find his eyes still on the coffee shop across the street.

"Uh…Sammy, what's going on?" Caleb queried as he grasped his friends arm.

Sam jerked his head around and met Caleb's eyes. "Nothing…sorry," Sam answered, the young man not fooling any of the hunters.

"Sam, you look like you've seen a ghost. Spill," Joshua said.

Sam glanced at Joshua then went back to staring across the street. "That's…um…that's the coffee shop where…" he started, his voice trailing off as he shuffled nervously.

"Where…wh…oh. That's where you were first attacked?" Dean questioned, the young man moving closer to his brother without thinking.

"Yeah, and those are my friends I was with when it happened," Sam said softly.

Daniel stepped up next to Sam and nudged his shoulder. "Come on, we'll take you back to your dorm, kiddo."

Sam glanced over at his brother then squared his shoulders. "No…no, I'm going to go see my friends. I'm supposed to be proving something. If I can't go into the coffee shop where all of my friends hang out after class then I may as well quit now," he said with conviction.

"You sure, little brother? I mean, you can start proving yourself tomorrow," Dean said.

Sam swallowed then turned to look at his family and friends. "I'm sure. I may as well start now. Besides, the last time I saw them, well…you know," he replied.

"If that's what you want, Sam. We can wait for you to go say hi then we can drive you back to your dorm," John said.

"No, that's okay, Dad. I'll walk back with them," Sam answered.

"Sam, I think…" John started, only to be cut off by the young man.

"I'll be fine. They stay in the dorms too."

John glanced across the street then back to Sam. "Okay, Sam. So, I guess this is goodbye then, huh?"

Sam swallowed as he glanced at each man. "Yeah, I guess. Uh…you guess be safe okay?" he answered.

John stepped up to Sam and pulled him into his arms. "You be careful, son," he whispered into Sam's ear.

"I will, Dad…don't worry," Sam replied as he pulled away.

Dean draped his arm over Sam's shoulder and turned him away from the others. "You got everything you need, Sammy? Pens? Pencils? Notebooks? Rubbers?" he asked with a chuckle.

Sam smiled at his brother, recognizing the joke covering the concern. "I'll be fine, Dean," he said as he turned to face his brother.

Dean pursed his lips then wrapped his arms around Sam. He slapped him twice on the back before pulling away. Sam nodded then turned to Daniel.

"Danny, I'm gonna miss you," Sam said, his stomach clenching at the pain he saw in his eldest brother's eyes.

Daniel hurried forward and pulled Sam into yet another hug and Sam could feel his brother's heart pounding in his chest. "I'll be okay, Danny…I promise," he whispered.

Daniel pulled away, his hands moving to grasp Sam's upper arms. "I know you will be, Sammy. Not so sure about myself though. Don't forget, call…"

"I know. Call every Thursday night at eight. I won't forget. Uh, I better go or we'll be standing here all night," Sam said, the young man turning to face each man.

Sam stepped forward and shook each of his 'uncles' hands, coming to Bobby last. "Take care of 'em, Bobby, okay?" he said with a smile.

"You got it, kiddo. You take care of yourself, you hear!" Bobby replied.

"I will. I'll be fine guys. Really."

"Yeah…well, you better go," John said.

Sam nodded, glanced once more at his family then turned and headed across the street. He turned once more before entering the coffee shop and waved then headed inside. The hunters watched as he approached the group of students who had entered earlier. The students all rose and embraced Sam exuberantly, and the men smiled as Sam's dimples made an appearance. They didn't know what the future held for any of them, but then again, who did? Sam would be alone and they would have to learn to deal with it. John was the first to break the moment as he headed to the Impala and waited for Dean to come unlock the car. The others followed, John, Dean and Daniel climbing into the Impala while Bobby, Joshua, Frank and Caleb got into Caleb's SUV. They sat for a moment longer then they reluctantly pulled away, leaving their youngest member to start the next chapter of his life. A chapter that didn't include any of them.

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Sam glanced over his shoulder at his family before turning and stepping into the small coffee shop. He walked to where his friends had seated themselves while at the same time watching the men across the street from the corner of his eye. He approached the laughing students, none of whom had noticed him at that point.

"Uh…hey guys," Sam called lightly, smiling as Jason looked up, the young man's eyes going wide at seeing his friend.

"Sam! Holy crap, dude! You're back!" Jason cried as he stood and hurried to Sam and pulled him into a quick hug.

"Yeah…I'm back," Sam replied, the young man stumbling slightly as he was nearly tackled by the rest of his friends.

Andrea was the last to approach him and Sam gazed down at her nervously. "Hey, Andi. How was your summer?" he asked softly.

"God, Sam! I was so worried about you. Are you okay? What the heck happened to you?" Andrea cried as she lunged toward Sam and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Uh…I was sick. Encephalitis," Sam answered.

"Oh my God! Isn't that a brain infection?" Will asked as he clapped Sam on the back.

"Yeah. It was pretty bad. Messed with my head. I'm sorry I scared you all that night," Sam replied as he pulled out of Andrea's embrace.

"Don't apologize, dude. You can die from encephalitis. It's not your fault. We're just glad you're back. We kind of thought maybe you wouldn't be," Greg said.

"Well, I wasn't sure if my family was going to let me come back," Sam said in reply.

"Oh man, your dad is scary, dude. He was asking us all of these weird questions. What was that all about anyway?" Will queried.

"Oh, Dad was in the military. He's always been like that. The doctors weren't sure at first what was going on, so he thought maybe something happened here. Sorry you had to meet him like that," Sam answered as he turned to look over his shoulder at the counter.

"She's not working tonight. She asked about you yesterday though. Wondered if we knew if you were coming back," Jason said with a grin.

"Who? Oh, you mean Jessica? No, I was just wondering if I should get a latte," Sam stammered.

"Yeah…sure. Go on, go get a drink. We don't have classes tomorrow," Will said.

Sam smiled and watched as his friends sat again. He walked up to the counter and ordered a latte. The sound of the bell over the door made him flinch, but he quickly shrugged it off with a light chuckle. He however couldn't shake it off when a hand grasped his arm. He jumped around, his hazel eyes wide with fear until he saw the pretty blonde who had come up behind him. The sight of her caused a quick flash of something to zip through his mind, but in a second it was gone. He shook his head slightly as his face lit up with a bright smile.

"J-Jessica…how are you?" Sam stammered, his heart fluttering as the girl looked up at him with her beautiful blue eyes.

"I'm fine, Sam. How are you? It's really good to see you," Jessica answered, concern evident in her voice.

"I'm better. Uh…I heard you came to the hospital. Thanks for that," Sam said softly.

"Oh…I was worried about you. You hit your head pretty hard," Jessica replied.

"Yeah…good thing I have a hard head. Uh…do you want something?"

"Um…yeah. A mocha would be nice."

Sam smiled and turned to the barista and ordered the mocha. He lifted the latte that the girl had handed to him to his lips and took a sip as he and Jessica waited for her drink. Once her drink arrived, Sam paid the girl and both he and Jessica headed back toward his friends. Once they were seated, Sam in an armchair and Jessica on the couch next to Andrea, the group fell into small talk about what they did over the summer. Sam couldn't keep his eyes away from Jessica and it wasn't just because she was the first girl to catch his eyes since Alisa. There was something about her that he thought he should know. Something that kept skirting the edges of his memories, but wouldn't come close enough for him to grasp it. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow in danger, but he couldn't figure out why he would think that. Finally, he shrugged it off as nerves. He was back at school, his family on their way out of town at that very moment, leaving him on his own and he had the girl who made his heart flutter sitting within two feet of him.

Sam jumped when a hand suddenly came to rest on his knee and he looked up into Jessica's concerned eyes. "Uh…sorry, did you say something?" he asked, a slight blush to his cheeks.

"You were kind of spacing out. Is everything okay?" Jessica asked, her voice a soft melody to Sam's ears.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking how glad I am to be back," Sam replied.

Sam gazed around at his friends as they talked and laughed, but his eyes always seemed to rest on Jessica the longest. She was so beautiful and full of life, just as Alisa had been. He felt a twinge of guilt for having feelings for this girl, but he knew that Alisa would want him to move on. He just didn't know if he should. He didn't want any harm to come to Jessica by being with him. Sam shook the thoughts out of his mind and relaxed back into the chair. His thoughts drifted to his family and the all too familiar lump once again formed in his throat. He already missed them, but this was his chance. It was his chance to prove to them and to himself that he deserved to be called Winchester. He would not fail them and he would not fail himself. Not ever again. Sam tuned back in to the conversation and soon he was laughing right along with his friends, the horrors of the summer temporarily forgotten. The memories would return all too soon, but for right now, Sam was just like all of the other students who had converged onto the campus. Young and eager to make their lives the best that they could be. The whole world before them, theirs for the taking. It was what Sam had always wanted. It was too bad that he didn't know at the time that the life he craved was never going to be his. Fate and destiny would never allow it.

**THE END**

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**Gosh, I hope that didn't suck! Please, please, please let me know what you thought. I'd love to hear from some of those who haven't commented yet. The feedback help immensely! You are all the best and are the reason I keep doing this. Don't want to bore you by going into any long speech or anything, so I'll just let you know that my next story is titled 'A Family Torn Asunder' and I'll start posting it in a few days. No Danny...sorry. I don't know how long it will turn out to be. I never know for sure where these stories will take me. I hope to see you all there! Love you all!**

**Cindy**


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